Love at Work
by Raverin Prefect
Summary: 25-year-old Hermione Granger has everything she's ever wanted, a loving family, close friendships, a satisfying Ministry career, her own luxury flat, and the comfort of peace that didn't exist the first seven years of her life in the magical world. Could an office romance with the person she least expected be the thing she never knew she was missing? Dramione, Canon-compliant, EWE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I owned Harry Potter I would be rolling around in a bed of diamonds and money...

* * *

 **DEC 15, 2004**

"Seriously, Ron? You want me to go on a date with Cormac? Cormac McLaggen."

Hermione shot a pleading glance to Harry who leafed through a file on her desk, pretending to not notice the conversation happening between his two best friends.

"What's wrong with McLaggen, 'Mione? He's a handsome enough bloke," Ron offered, "wealthy," he added.

As if _looks_ and _wealth_ were the most important things to Hermione Granger. She was about to say as much when Harry decided to offer his two knuts. "Ron, Hermione isn't concerned with looks or galleons…"

"Thank you, Harry!"

"...I mean, obviously, she was with you for _two_ years! Kidding! Ouch, _ouch,_ Hermione. I thought we were on the same side!" Harry said as he protected his head from being swatted with a rolled-up copy of The _Daily Prophet_.

" _HEY!_ " protested an incensed Ron.

"I happened to love this poor, ugly fool very much, Harry," Hermione teased as she wrapped her arms around Ron's waist."

"Some friends," Ron said as he playfully pushed her away. "I really think you should give McLaggen a shot. He's not that bad once you get to know him."

"Yes Ron, I expressly remember trying to get to know him back in sixth year. But, it was difficult to talk, you see, with him trying to examine me for strep throat using his actual tongue in lieu of a tongue depressor." Harry guffawed at that, while Ron looked somewhere between disgusted by the imagery, and utterly confused by the muggle terminology. "Besides, you only want me to go out with Cormac so that he'll set you up with Romilda Vane. I know all about your little deal."

"That, tha, that's completely off point," Ron sputtered.

Hermione was mentally preparing her rebuttal when there was a sharp knock. Draco Malfoy pushed his way through the partially closed door. "Granger, do you have that file ready?"

"Hello to you too, Malfoy. Yes, it's just here," replied Hermione, summoning the file in question with her wand and floating it over to Draco.

"Impeccable as always, Granger," he said, scanning the file. "The amount of detail that you put into your work is astounding considering these two wankers hanging around your office all throughout the day."

"Fuck off, Malfoy," countered Ron, but without the same bite had it been six years earlier.

Six years earlier, after the Battle at Hogwarts and defeat of Voldemort, marking the conclusion of the war, Harry Potter testified at Draco Malfoy's trial, as well as that of Draco's mother. Narcissa Malfoy was sentenced to five years of house arrest for her involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Draco, according to the Wizengamot, had been coerced into taking the dark mark, effectively branding him a junior Death Eater. Having been found not guilty of casting a _meaningful_ crucio nor the killing curse, and with the help of Harry's testament, Draco was acquited.

Both Draco and his mother had thanked Harry and Hermione at the trials, not only for Harry's testimony and Hermione's support but also for saving Draco and Gregory Goyle in the Room of Requirement, as well as for banishing the dark lord.

Despite having defected in the last moments in order to save his family, Lucius Malfoy's fate had been sealed, having been in too deep with the dark lord. He had been sentenced to Azkaban and had received the dementors kiss.

Draco completed his N.E.W.T.s with the help of private tutors that his mother hired and helped to shine a positive light on the sullied Malfoy name through reparations and philanthropic efforts alongside Narcissa.

He went on to study Magical Law and had been hired on two years ago as a Magical Advocate (the equivalent to a muggle barrister), representing the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where Harry and Ron worked as Aurors; and Hermione—after a brief stint in the grossly underfunded Department of Magical Creatures—was now the Senior Analyst for the DMLE, working closely with both the _law_ and _order_ sides.

Hermione was sporting a lovely blush about her cheeks at Draco's assessment of her analysis, and Draco took notice. Lifting the corner of his lips in the slightest smile, he asked, "so, what exactly are these two giving you a hard time about today, Granger?"

"Oh, you know," she sighed, "Ron was just saying how I was shallow and only concerned with wealth and good looks when it comes to potential suitors." She was _not_ about to mention that the suitor in question was Cormac McLaggen. Though they had established a pleasant work relationship, he did enjoy goading her, and she certainly didn't need to give him _that_ particular fodder.

"Wealth and good looks, you say?" asked Draco. "I'll take you on a date, _Granger_." Hermione couldn't help but notice how he growled her surname in the most delicious way. She blew an imaginary hair out of her eyes to keep from flushing. Harry glanced between the two, pondering, while Ron broke into a fit of laughing coughs.

 _Yes, Malfoy_ must _be joking._

"Seriously, Malfoy, you're just as bad as they are." Hermione stood up and shooed the men out of her office. "Out, all of you, some of us have actual work to do."

Hermione closed the door and listened until she could no longer hear their discussion of the upcoming Quidditch match as they rounded the corner. Leaving the witch and her wayward thoughts behind.

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A/N: This is my first published piece. I'm an American and would love a British Beta if you could send one my way. This will be a multi-chapter fic. I will try my best to update weekly. The first 10 chapters are in the editing phase. Rated M for language/adult situations, but this will not be explicit.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, but I could totally be Ollivander! I made the coolest homemade wands for my son's 11th Birthday last month.

* * *

 **JAN 10 2005**

"Come on Granger, I'm taking you to lunch."

Hermione continued to pour over the parchment on her desk, scribbling furiously and replied without even looking at the blonde wizard who had just barged into her corner office. "Yes, I suppose you would want to go over the Yaxley case before a trial date is set. Just allow me a moment to wrap up here."

Draco's plan was for their lunch date to become the first of many. Since she spent most of her lunch periods with Potter and/or Weasley, Draco wanted a day of his own. Monday would be the most logical choice, allowing them to discuss the previous week as well as the new cases that had piled up over the weekend.

In reality, Draco, having never had the need to be patient as a child—or now for that matter—chose Monday because he wanted to see her as soon as possible after not seeing her over the weekend.

He might even suggest that they invite their mutual friend, Theodore Nott to lunch sometime. It had been Nott who, a couple of weeks ago, had introduced Draco to the muggle custom of New Year's resolutions, and Draco's resolution was to get to know Granger.

As a child, Draco had been conditioned to think the muggle-born witch and others like her were inferior to himself and his pureblood family. At first, it seemed that the swot was trying too hard to show off and impress the teachers, but after a short while, it became clear that Hermione Granger truly was a master of magic and a force to be reckoned with. By that time, Draco was the number one nemesis of the Golden Trio. _Well,_ not counting "You-Know-Who" _,_ he supposed. Had they been friends with no prejudices concerning blood status, Draco would have been envious of her capabilities; more so impressed by the fact that she hadn't grown up learning magic with the help of magical parents as he had. But considering their firm position as _not_ friends, Draco had been jealous of the clever witch— and that was not a welcomed emotion to the proud pureblood.

But now things were different.

Reality came in the form of a dark mark and an even darker house guest in the summer of 1996. Draco was fearful of the task that had been bestowed upon him, and even more fearful of the dark lord's wrath. That was the year that made him question everything. He didn't believe that blood status was worth all of _this..._ certainly not worth a bloody war! Lord Voldemort himself was a half-blood, for Merlin's sake! When it was all finished, Draco was relieved that Potter ended it. He had seen the fierce Hermione Granger bleed out on his floor and had haunted him ever since. His own Aunt Bellatrix carved that nasty slur into her arm.

 _Mudblood._

In reality, his mother had turned him away, shielding him from the horror. But in his nightmares, Hermione's big brown eyes penetrated his grey and it was if she could see right down to the depths of his soul. He wanted no part of hurting this brave, beautiful girl.

He had thought of her often after the war. When his mother had told him that she hired "the best tutors that money can buy" in order to help him complete his N.E.W.T.'s, he briefly entertained the idea that it would be _her_. Of course, that was a foolish notion. Hermione Granger was back at Hogwarts completing her final year, having declined fast-track Auror training with Harry and Ron.

There were just a handful of "eighth-year" N.E.W.T. students, eight in total. Theodore Nott had been the lone Slytherin. Never having taken the dark mark himself, Theo was regrettably having a hard time of things due to his familial connections, _re: Nott Sr._ who had not so regrettably died in the final battle. That was until Hermione invited Theo to join her study group. "We eighth years have to stick together," she had told him.

Theo was now part of the '98 Great Eight, a nickname bestowed upon them by Gryffindor, Dean Thomas. "'98" referencing the year in which the group _would have_ graduated had the circumstances been not what they were. Having a separate dormitory away from their sorted houses, and being excluded from activities in which the older students would be at an advantage such as Quidditch and prefect duties (and yes, everyone was shocked that Hermione wouldn't be the Head Girl), the eighth year students became quite close and remained so to this day.

For the past five years, Theo Nott, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Ernie MacMillan, Hannah Abbott, Michael Corner, and Padma Patil got together the first Saturday of every fourth month. Draco had gone along as Theo's guest on more than one occasion, just as Ron, Harry, and Ginny Potter _nee Weasley_ had taken turns as Hermione's plus one. Draco had developed a careful acquaintanceship with the Gryffindors by the time he had completed his magical law studies.

Draco lowered his gaze away from the witch and down to the floor while shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. Hermione had yet to spare him a glance, so it went unnoticed when he shook his head. "Always business over pleasure, Granger?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Grab your cloak, it's cold."

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A/N: OMG you guys, I know I only have like 10 followers and half as many reviews so far, but I am so flattered that you are reading my story after just a few hours of being published. Here is the second chapter a week early to say thank you! You guys are the best!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Sadly, I'm still not JK Rowling.

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 **FEB 7 2005**

Snow fell outside the little cafe the workmates happened upon in Muggle London on this, their fourth Monday lunch. The pair were seated at a cozy table for two in front of a lit fireplace. Draco pulled out Hermione's chair and smiled as he took his own seat, thinking that this was a rather romantic setting for their weekly "business" lunch. Lately, the pair found themselves talking less about work and more about, well, anything.

Draco's plan to better know Hermione was going swimmingly, _if_ he wanted to be a part of her ever-growing harem of male BFF's, that is.

"What's good here, Granger?" Draco asked, carefully considering the menu.

"Not sure. I've never been," she replied.

Hermione was one surprise after the next. For all the years he spent assuming that she was a predictable, bookish, goody two shoes, he couldn't have been more wrong. He learned that she successfully brewed polyjuice potion in their second year (coincidently to trick Draco himself). She was somewhat of a rule-breaker; ruthless too—just ask Marietta Edgecumb or Rita Skeeter. Oh, and following the 'torture incident' at Malfoy Manor, the barmy witch turned herself into Bellatrix in order to break-in to Gringotts and proceeded to escape on the back of a dragon. _A bloody dragon!_ That story, of course, he'd read about in _The Daily Prophet_ shortly after the war. The dragon part, not the Bellatrix part, not even _The Daily_ was privy to that.

These were some of the truths that Draco had discovered about Hermione over the past month. She was learning to trust him and he was glad for it. Only, Draco wanted more than the cozy companionship that she shared with Potter and Weasley. Actually, Weasley _had_ managed to capture her attention after years of friendship. The sodding redhead damn near married her come to think of it. Yes, the way to Granger's heart was through friendship and trust. But even so, it would help matters along to know if she were the least bit interested.

"Oooh," she said, pulling Draco from his thoughts, "that looks good." She gestured to a rather large salad being carried out on a tray by one of the waiters.

"Fine," he said, closing his menu. "We'll share that monstrosity of a salad. That way we'll have room for dessert." Hermione looked at him like he had grown a second head. "What? Do you have something against dessert?"

"Draco Malfoy wants to _share_? I thought that would be too plebeian for you or something," she smirked, a habit she had undoubtedly picked up from him.

"Says the woman with a half-a-million Galleon flat," He appraised her with a smirk of his own. "I don't mind sharing with _you_ , Hermione. It's cute and couple _y_. And I know how much you hate wasting food."

Hermione ducked her head and smiled. If she thought he growled her surname. He positively _purred_ her given one. "I do hate for good things to go to waste. But for the record, I do not have a half-a-million Galleon apartment; and we," she said, pointing her finger between the two of them, "are _not_ a couple, last I checked."

This would have been the perfect opportunity for Draco to respond 'we could be' had the server not arrived at that very moment to take their order. Instead, he looked up at his pretty coworker with a devilish glint in his eye, placed his hand over hers and asked, "Which was the salad that you wanted, love? _"_ This sent Hermione into a little fit of coughs over the sip of sparkling water she had just taken. Once recovered, they ordered and talked briefly about Draco's most recent case.

Eventually, Draco steered the conversation back to romance by bringing up Theo's new love interest. They also discussed Weasley's budding relationship with Romilda Vane, who Cormac had eventually introduced him to without Hermione's involvement. _Thank Merlin._

"Malfoy, what is today's date?" she asked, digging around in her conspicuously deep bag.

"The seventh," he replied in between bites of salad.

Hermione found the item she was searching for, her mobile phone. She glanced at it and set it down on the table. "Blast. The Great's get together is _this_ Saturday," she explained. "I was thinking that it was Saturday next." She primly dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, the white cloth removing a trace of pink gloss from her lips. Lips that Draco was currently staring at. "Do I have something in my teeth?" she asked, catching his gaze.

"Hmm?"

"Are you even listening?" Hermione asked. She self-consciously covered her mouth in order to search out the piece of food stuck between teeth.

Upon realizing that he had been staring at her mouth for some time, Draco found himself flustered. "Um, no...I mean yes!" Draco gently lowered her hand. "I mean _no,_ there's nothing in your teeth to my knowledge; and _yes,_ I am listening."

"Oh."

"So you have a scheduling conflict, I assume?" he asked.

"Not really a conflict. It's just that Ron's brother, Charlie is in town for the weekend only and the two of us were to go to dinner on Saturday. I'll just have to bring him as my plus one." Hermione nodded her head at her quick thinking. Crisis averted.

"Don't you have a family dinner at the Burrow every Sunday?"

"Well, yes, but I don't attend when Charlie's in town."

"Why not? Obviously, you get on with him if you have dinner plans with the bloke."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Do Potter and Weasley know?"

"Yes, but it's not something we talk about. _Ever_. Ginny doesn't even know."

 _Now that's interesting. What would the trio be hiding from Mrs. Harry Potter?_ Draco leaned back in his chair. "You have my word, Granger. As well as my undivided attention," he stated as he stretched, crossed one ankle over the other and locked his hands behind his head.

"I slept with Ron's brother!" She immediately clapped her hands over her mouth as if that would take back the confession.

Draco's eyes widened rather comically. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been _that_. "You're telling me-" He leaned forward on the table, "-that you shagged not _one_ Weasley, but _two!?_ What is their secret? Do they have magic pricks?"

"Very funny, Malfoy," she scoffed. "Not to mention, crass. And well, yes, I suppose _those_ would be magic considering that they are both wizards," she finished smugly.

"Well by that definition, _princess,_ " he smirked, "I, _too,_ have a magic prick."

"I don't want to think about your magic prick right now, Malfoy," she said in an exasperated tone. They both turned red and burst into laughter. When the hysterics subsided, Draco settled the tab in Muggle currency and stood to take his leave.

"As much fun as this has been, Granger, I'm going to be late for my meeting. Raincheck on dessert?"

"Oh, of course," she said, glancing at the time displayed on her cell phone.

"And now I have to figure out how to charm my hair to red," he said with a wink. 'I'll see you on Saturday." And with that, he was out the door, leaving Hermione to ponder what had just transpired.

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A/N: Please review to let me know you are enjoying the story! Hearing from readers motivates me to post before Friday! Up next: Draco is going to have to step it up in the next chapter before he gets permanently friend-zoned. And we meet Charlie Weasley and the Great Eight!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. A/N: Enjoy this extra long, two-part chapter!

* * *

 **FEB 12 2005**

Charlie Weasley looked as fit as ever having just stepped through Hermione's floo. The friends greeted each other. The latter having all but barreled into the former's arms from which he proceeded to pick her up and spin her in a circle.

His red hair, less vibrant than his siblings, was as short as Hermione had ever seen it. _Molly's influence, undoubtedly._ He sported maybe a week's worth of neatly trimmed facial hair and at least one new dragon tattoo—she could see the talons curving around the sides of his neck. He wore his standard denims, dragon hide boots, and a blue and white plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his not-so-subtle forearms which were tanned and sinewy. It didn't take the title of 'brightest witch of her age' to figure out how she had once fallen for the second eldest Weasley.

Charlie looked around the witch's apartment and let out a low whistle. "Some place you've got here, Mione."

"I forgot you've never been. It really is too much for just me, but I'd hate to sell it."

It was a little-known fact that Harry had paid off his half of the deed on the modern luxury flat that he and Hermione purchased shortly after the war. The friends had been roommates (with the exception of the eight-and-a-half months Hermione was away at Hogwarts) up until Harry and Ginny's Wedding. The night before the Potter's said 'I do', Harry gifted the deed to the flat to Hermione, his half paid in full. When Hermione insisted that she couldn't accept such an extravagant gift, Harry was prepared with a heartwarming speech listing all the ways in which he could never show enough gratitude to the one person who, in his opinion, kept him alive since age 11.

Hermione showed Charlie around the two-bedroom, two-bath flat while catching up on each other's work lives; she, at the DMLE, and he, at the dragon sanctuary in Romania.

"Ron and I have talked about bringing James to see you once Ginny has the baby, but he's not sure if he'll be able to get the time off once Harry's on paternity leave. That _and_ there's a new witch in his life."

"Ah yes, mum mentioned something. I think in her mind she's still planning your and Ron's wedding."

She groaned. "Don't remind me. Romilda is wonderful for Ron and he's rather smitten," she laughed, thinking to the time back in sixth-year when Ron had accidentally ingested a love potion that Romilda had meant for Harry. "Actually I have a funny story from before they met, but I'll save it for the group."

" _Group_?" he asked, as she slipped on a pair of strappy sandals.

Hermione moved around her flat _nox_ -ing off the lights and collecting her bag, coat, and wand. "Yes, about that. I didn't get a chance to owl you about the change of plans. It's The Great's meetup tonight. I hope you don't mind being my plus one?"

"Not at all Mione, I'm honored to be your date, and I love that group...even if you prats _do_ refer to yourselves as ' _The Greats'._ " He laughed as she swatted his arm.

"Oh shut it, you sound just like Malfoy." Hermione locked and warded her first floor flat and the pair proceeded down the road, having decided to walk and enjoy the unseasonably warm weather rather than apparating the 7 short blocks to the pub.

"Malfoy. There's a name I haven't heard in some time."

"Yes, well _Draco_ Malfoy, he works with Harry, Ron, and I at the ministry. He's on the DMLE Quidditch team with the boys."

Hermione was giddy with anticipation as she and Charlie drew nearer The Leaky Cauldron. She hadn't seen her friends since autumn with the exception of Theo. Per unofficial rule, they kept the extra guests to one per member as not to exceed the 20- _but comfortably 16-_ person capacity private backroom. As Hannah Longbottom _nee Abbott_ was the current owner of the establishment, it was always reserved for the group. The butterbeer was already flowing thanks to Hannah. Neville, _now, Professor Longbottom_ regaled tales of Hogwarts staff and students to the small cluster of early arrivals. Aside from the Longbottoms, already in attendance were Dean, Padma, along with her sister, Pavrati, and Theo with…

" _Draco!?"_

Upon saying his name, _his given name,_ no less, the group looked over at the pair that had just entered the room.

"HERMIONE!" they called.

"Hi everyone," she greeted as she and Charlie were welcomed with hugs and handshakes. Theo, ever the gentleman, gave a slight bow and kissed her hand before sweeping her up in an enthusiastic hug. "Theodore, I'm so happy to see you! I thought you were bringing your new beau?" she said, her eyes shifting to Draco.

"So did I," replied Theo, earning him a swift elbow to the ribs courtesy Draco.

"I am the number one man in his life," quipped Draco. "Tell her, Nott."

The next thing she knew, Draco, too, had swept her up in an embrace. "Not happy to see _me_ , Granger?" Taken aback, since, to her knowledge _Malfoy's don't hug,_ Hermione took a moment to return the gesture. Upon doing so, Draco leaned down and whispered, "You look _gorgeous,_ love." Hermione could feel the heat rising from her chest up to the tips of her ears.

"Thank you," she quietly replied.

Charlie had just finished his man-hug with Theo and was now beside her. "Charlie, I don't believe you've met Draco Malfoy." _This couldn't be any more awkward._ "Draco, this is Charlie Weasley, Ron's brother." Hermione allowed herself a moment inside of her own head while the two men shook hands and made polite conversation. Draco, whose name literally translated to _dragon_ in Latin, made for easy conversation between himself and the dragonologist.

 _Did Malfoy just_ hug _me? And say that I was gorgeous?_

Hermione did take more time on her appearance these days. She had carefully selected a black silk spaghetti strap blouse, form-fitting white denims, and heeled black sandals for tonight's festivities. She had pinned her hair up on one side and worn her normal modest makeup with the addition of black kohl smudged around her eyes and berry-stained lips instead of her usual barely-there gloss.

 _And what was that exchange with Theo all about? Did Malfoy convince Theo to bring him as his guest tonight? Was it to see me?_

"Knut for your thoughts, Mione?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she lied. Charlie wasn't buying it, but luckily, the rest of the group had just arrived and Dean Thomas had begun their raucous battle cry.

"Nine! Eight!"

" _Nine! Eight!"_

"Eight Greats!"

" _Eight Greats!"_

"All love, no hate!"

" _All love, no hate!"_

" _ **For we, the eight!"**_ they finished in unison, followed by whoops, hollers, and a round of shots.

* * *

Despite Hermione's initial anxiety over having Draco and Charlie in the same room, the evening progressed splendidly. Draco was polite toward Charlie, even chatting excitedly about the Antipodean Opaleye, Draco's favorite dragon; as well as their respective days as Hogwarts seekers. Charlie, who was just a friendly guy in general, got on with everyone. He seemed especially friendly with Parvrati Patil. Having met Padma on two prior instances when accompanying Hermione, this was the first time meeting her vivacious twin. Having the _Witch Weekly_ gossip columnist distracted by Charlie _and vice versa_ was just fine by Hermione. Especially considering how handsy a now inebriated Draco was being.

The blonde wizard was currently running his finger under the thin strap of her top making the skin of her arms break out in gooseflesh. "Tell me what happened with Charlie, _Her-mio-ne,_ " he whispered. The sinful way he drawled out the syllables of her name caused her to shiver.

"I told you already."

They were sitting close, _real_ close, with her stool situated in between his knees up at the bar.

"Tell me the specifics. Were you and Ron still together?"

" _No!_ NO," asserted Hermione. They were huddled close and speaking in low tones. The witched glanced around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping before she continued. "I may have questionable judgment when it comes to men..." Draco smiled at that. "...but I am no cheater."

"Good to know." He clinked his glass against hers and took another sip of firewhisky. "Do go on."

"I was 20, _nearly 21._ He was 27. It was the summer after Ron and I had broken things off. The breakup was mutual but Ron started dating right away. I didn't expect either of us to move on quite so quickly." She glanced over at Charlie who was now getting a mobile phone lesson from Dean. "Charlie and I have always owled back and forth, ever since fourth-year. In one of my letters I had mentioned that I wouldn't be coming with the family to visit the sanctuary that summer, not wanting to make things awkward for Ron and I. He said to come for a week on my own or with a friend."

"And you went alone?"

"Well, It occurred to me that nearly all of my close friends are male," she gestured to the room in a sweeping motion. "I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea by taking another man so soon after things ended with Ron. Ginny was already going with the family the week prior. Hannah and Padma couldn't get the time off of work, and Luna was probably busy chasing nargles or something."

"Do I even ask what is a _nar-gul?_ "

"No idea," she replied. "Anyway, I ended up going alone. Two days before I left we, um _acted on_ our mutual attraction." Hermione cleared her throat. "Several times." Draco quirked an eyebrow at that. "We knew that nothing could come of it. He had almost been my brother-in-law, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione buried her head in her hands. "Anyway, we agreed not to repeat it and never to tell anyone."

"But Potter and Weasley…"

"Right. Well, a few months later, Ron and I were working on our friendship and we decided we wanted to give it another go as a couple. I couldn't let him go into that not knowing. I knew that if we got back together that it would lead to marriage and I just couldn't deceive him like that." She shook her head.

"So you told him?" _Gryffindors._

"We both told him. It was Boxing Day and Charlie was home for the hols. I had approached him and we decided to tell Ron together. The rest of the family had gone to Bill and Fleur's for dinner since Fleur had been pregnant and couldn't floo or apparate to the burrow on Christmas. Harry, Ron and I stayed back. Charlie planned to go a little later after we told Ron."

"And what happened?"

"It was awful. Harry and I had to disarm them. Ron was _livid_ , he accused Charlie of luring me to Romania to seduce me. Ron has always had a short temper, but this was just the absolute worst. Charlie punched Ron. Ron threatened to arrest Charlie and then had the gall to ask me which of his other brothers I had shagged. He accused me of sleeping with Fred!" Draco's eyes grew huge at that. "Yes, _Fred_ —their _dead_ brother!"

Draco let out a low whistle. "So you and Weasley... _Ron,"_ he clarified, "never got back together?"

"No. We made up eventually, as friends. He and Charlie as well. But you can imagine why Sunday dinners at the Burrow might not be the best idea with the three of us there."

"Too right." He leaned in. "See, Granger, that's why I'm perfect for you," he whispered. "I don't have any brothers to steal you away." Hermione sighed as he nuzzled his face against her neck and shoulder.

"You're cute when you're drunk," she told him.

"I'm glad you think so, witch."

The pair broke apart upon hearing someone clear their throat. "Unless you two want to be the next _Witch Weekly_ cover story, I urge you to rejoin the group," said Theo, throwing an arm around each of his two friends. "Patil's questions are starting to sound particularly interview _y._ "

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A/N: I appreciate your follows and favorites, but reviews are nice too! Please share your thoughts, readers.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nope, not her. A/N: I'm not crazy about this chapter, but I'm not sure what else to do with it, so here you go a couple of days early!

* * *

 **FEB 14 2005**

Hermione spent all of Sunday trying to think of anything but Draco Malfoy, but having a difficult time thinking of anything but. He was known to be quite charming and a bit of a flirt, but with her, it was turning into something more. The way that he had touched her and pressed his face against her shoulder...okay, so perhaps face to shoulder was not exactly hand to bum, but it still was the most intimate contact she had had with a man in years. Malfoy had made his interest in her rather clear, and it was time that Hermione reciprocate.

If only the wizarding world would keep up with muggle technology she could shoot him a simple text message to say 'hello' or 'what r u doing?' but as it was, the only wizards she knew of with phones were Dean and Harry. She wasn't exactly trying to see what was under of either of their robes, however (and thanks to the drunken strip-poker fiasco of The Greats June 2001 meet-up, she already had).

She could send her Patronus, but producing a Patronus charm was exceptionally rare, only usually known to Aurors (and of course, herself and the D.A. thanks to Harry in fifth-year). Draco, on the other hand, might not know what to make of Hermione's voice coming out of the little otter. She could always send an owl, but then again, what would she say?

Maybe she should have just gone to the Burrow for Sunday dinner after all like Charlie had suggested. "It's going to look more and more suspicious if you don't go every time I'm there. You and Ron are fine. He's not going to cause a scene with his girlfriend there" he had told her the night before. If nothing else, it would have given her something to _do._

Instead, Hermione did what Hermione did best. She laid out a plan complete with a pro's and con's list of why she should or should not date Draco Malfoy, assuming those were his intentions.

PROS:

Intelligent

Excellent table manners — _No offense, Ronald_

Good at his job

 **Has** a job — _Not necessary among the trust-fund kids_

Bedroom eyes

Three-piece suits

CONS:

Arsehole father

Psychotic aunt

Complete tosser back at school

Rumored playboy

She guessed she could leave his father and aunt out of it. It's not like he could pick his relatives. Plus, Bellatrix was dead and Lucius was as good as. Malfoy had certainly changed his views and his attitude since their school days, so she supposed she could get past that too. Which left only one item on the cons list. Hermione wasn't interested in casual dating at this point in her life. She had passed up potential one night stands before; and while the thought of spending the night with Malfoy got her all hot and bothered, the witch wasn't going to settle for a convenient shag.

In hindsight, she was grateful that Theo had interrupted them at the bar, and that Charlie kept a close eye on her after that. Godric knows that she wouldn't have been able to turn down Malfoy had he invited her back to his several drinks later.

By the time Monday had rolled around, the day of their weekly lunch, Hermione had mustered up all of her Gryffindor courage. The next time that he made a little comment about them as a couple or how she should go on a _real_ date with him—she would agree to it.

She took extra time getting ready for work that morning, styling her hair in an elegant chignon with a few soft tendrils framing her face. She dressed in a sleek red pencil peplum skirt that flared out right above the knee, a pretty black top, and her highest heels that Theo had assured her made her arse look fantastic.

It was a busy morning and she didn't see the blonde wizard until he rapped on her door to collect her around noon. She was certain she caught him looking at the aforementioned arse as they made their way out of the floo and on to Diagon Alley.

Their weekly lunch saw them to an up and coming French restaurant. On their way inside they ran into the Greengrass sisters; Daphne, a Slytherin who had been in their year, and her younger sister, Astoria.

"Draco!" Daphne greeted her former housemate.

"Daphne, Astoria, fancy meeting you here," Draco replied, kissing each woman on the hand. "Daphne, you remember the brightest witch of her age Hermione Granger? Dark Lord slayer extraordinaire and my esteemed colleague."

"Never introduce me again," Hermione groaned, looking mortified. The women tittered and exchanged those haughty cheek air kisses with her. "It's nice to see you, Daphne."

The younger sister stood in what could only be described as 'awe'. "Miss Granger, it's an absolute honor to meet you. I was in Slytherin a few years behind Draco and Daphne, but I'm sure you were too busy saving the world to remember me."

"Hermione, please. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It was lovely to see you lovely ladies, but Granger and I have very important business to attend to and unfortunately we're on the ministry's time," Draco insisted, pointing to his wristwatch.

"So sorry, don't let us keep you," replied Daphne.

The sisters were nearly out the door when Astoria turned around. "Oh, and Draco, _do_ come and bid on me at the Ministry auction next week!"

"I'm sure there aren't enough Galleons in all of Gringotts for a witch as lovely as you, Tori," he called back, smiling his most charming smile.

Hermione excused herself to go to the witch's room while Draco waited for a host to show them to their table.

 _Was Draco honestly flirting with that simpering bint? And '_ Tori' _, really? What kind of a stupid name is that?_

Hermione composed herself and exited the loo. Upon her return, Draco was seated in a cozy little corner booth and there was already a bottle of wine on the table —a poured glass waiting for her.

"No thanks," she said, pushing the rose-colored vintage away. "I don't drink during _business_ lunches."

"Sorry, love," Draco replied, frowning. "I thought we would do something special since it's Valentine's Day."

"Is it?" she asked. "I've always thought it a rather silly holiday."

"So, your dragon-keeper friend was nice," Draco said, changing the subject.

"He is. Did you bring the file on Bibbins?"

"No."

"Well, how do you propose we go over the key facts?"

"Hermione, we never talk about work at our lunches."

"Exactly. Kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think?"

Hermione was all business for the duration of their lunch. She didn't react to his cute little nicknames, nor when he put his arm around her shoulders, nor when he put his hand just above her knee on two separate occasions.

If Draco sensed her irritation, he certainly wasn't letting on.

The witch's day didn't improve when they arrived back at the Ministry and she was accosted by Auror Johnson begging her to fill-in for a last minute cancellation at the Ministry's annual charity auction that was just twelve days away.

"I already told you 'no'. I think a dating auction is incredibly sexist. Do you really want a strange man to bid on you and then you'll have to spend the rest of the evening with him?"

"No, of course not. I told George he has to win no matter the cost."

"Well, not all of us have fiances to bid on us, Angelina," she bit.

"I'll bid on you, Granger," chimed in her lunch companion, earning an eye roll from Hermione.

 _Oh, so there's enough Galleons in Gringotts for me?_

"See, Mione —Malfoy will bid on you, and Ron, and I'm sure those friends from that Hogwarts club. Not to mention McLaggen and other eligible suitors who actually want to date _The_ Hermione Granger. You're a beautiful war hero, Hermione, not to mention 'the brightest witch' and a by all rights a celebrity."

"Good Godric. You and Malfoy should write my online dating profile."

"What's an online da-," Draco began to ask.

"Not important," interrupted Angelina. "Look, the point is you will bring in so much money for the orphans."

"Orphans?"

"Yes, didn't you know? All of the proceeds after we reach a paltry 1100 Galleons to cover the event will be donated to the orphanage in Wales. That's the charity this year." Had Angelina been familiar with the muggle phrase, the words _hook, line,_ and _sinker_ would have been running through her head at that very moment.

* * *

A/N: Check out Hermione's fashion, London flat and more on my Pinterest. Amanda B. /mandaraverin, LAW inspo is the name of the board. Reviews are love!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the wonderful world of Harry Potter. A/N: One Galleon is equivalent to 4.93 British pounds or $6.64 USD. This chapter is dedicated to munozkayla10, always the first to read and review and my biggest cheerleader.

* * *

 **FEB 26 2005**

Hermione Granger paced up and down the makeshift backstage area —a wide corridor with a curtain on either side just adjacent to the ministry ballroom. She had just overheard Astoria Greengrass tell Mandy Brockhurst, a Ravenclaw from Hermione's year, that Draco Malfoy was there to bid on Astoria herself. Hermione wasn't sure whether or not it was speculation on the younger witch's part, but it aggrieved her just the same. To make matters worse, the raven-haired beauty then spotted Hermione, smiled, and waved enthusiastically. Luckily, a familiar voice saved her from further pleasantries.

"Merlin's _pants_ , Hermione!"

"Can we let that go, Ronald? I said that _one_ time!"

"And it was hilarious-"

"Are you supposed to be back here?"

"I'm an Auror! I'm making sure you ladies are safe. And may I point out that you never wore anything half that sexy when we were dating."

"No, you may not. It's not sexy, it's _classy,"_ she clarified. The dress in question was a mermaid cut, nude in color with a sheer overlay covered in clear crystals. It had cost far more than she had ever intended to spend, but she had fallen in love with it the moment that she put it on.

"You went shopping with Angelina and my sister. I assure you there was nothing classy involved."

"Oh great, so now I look like a common whore!" she said, adjusting the front of the heavy garment.

Ron laughed boisterously at that. "Calm down, Hermione; there is nothing wrong with being sexy, it's a compliment —you look like you're naked and covered in diamonds."

"That's supposed to help with my nerves?" she asked. "Nudity?"

"Don't be nervous," he said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Look, I'm going to hike the bid up to 100 Galleons, but you'll bring in much more. I know we haven't been dating for that long, but I'm sure Romilda would not appreciate me buying a date with my ex —yeah?"

"Of course. I'll even pay you back if you accidentally win me for 60 Galleons or some other embarrassing amount. Godric help me."

"You'll do great!" he assured her, exiting the curtain.

The auction had been going on for over an hour at this point. Hermione was last, Witch #20 according to the parchment in front of her. So far the lowest winning bid had been 100 Galleons; 320 was the highest. Witch #18, Mandy Brockhurst had just fetched 200 Galleons, bid on by Ernie McMillan.

Hermione didn't expect all of her friends to bid on her, but when Ernie and Michael Corner had shown up to wish her luck, she had felt somewhat confident that someone would aside from Ron. _And McLaggen._ Now she was panicking. To further add to her stress, Angelina had just come to collect Witch #19, Astoria Greengrass.

Hermione peeked out from behind the thick red curtain. Having moved all the way down the line, she was now close enough to see part of the audience, including Draco. Well, the back of his head, anyway. His white-blonde hair called to her like a beacon from the fourth row, center aisle. Ron and Cormac were seated a few seats over in the row in front of him.

The auctioneer, who greatly resembled Filius Flitwick in Hermione's opinion, opened up the bid for Astoria at 50 Galleons. Hermione's stomach plummeted as she watched Draco raise his wand —a light emitting his bidder number, 105 appeared. "We have 50. Who will raise to 60?" The wizard to bid 60 galleons was out of her line of vision. "Who will give me 70?" The auctioneer turned to Draco who responded with an imperceptible shake of his head.

 _What? He couldn't have possibly expected to win with a bid of 50 Galleons..._

"Do I hear 120?"

 _Perhaps he only bid to support his friend just as Ron promised to do for me?_

"Who will give me 300 Galleons?"

Hermione gasped as the next thought surfaced. _Perhaps Astoria isn't the witch that Malfoy is here for..._

"...SOLD! For 400 Galleons!" yelled the Flitwick look-a-like, ending the bidding on Astoria. The pretty young witch had claimed the highest bid of the night. Lost in her thoughts, Hermione had missed the majority of the bidding.

"Ready to take us out with a bang, Granger?"

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Angelina."

"The auction or the dress?" Angelina inquired as she performed glamour charms to touch up Hermione's soft curls and smokey eyes.

"The auction...though now that you mention it, I realize that I could have donated the money that I spent on the dress directly to the orphanage..."

"Yeah," agreed Angelina, "but what fun would that be? Knock 'em dead, Mione," she said as she pushed her through the curtain.

Like the women before her, she walked across the platform, waved, and then took a seat in the single chair placed to the side of the auctioneer. The small wizard stood on a crate behind the podium rattling on an abridged list of the witch's accomplishments which was no less than 10-minutes long in Hermione's case. To her surprise, a familiar face came up to the stage and stood behind her.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" she whispered over her shoulder.

"Security detail." He leaned closer. "You're a high profile prize, Miss Granger."

Hermione conjured a chair and gestured for the bespectacled wizard to sit.

"Because this isn't humiliating as it is?" she whispered once he sat. "I suppose you'll be escorting my date and I around the ball then?"

"It depends who wins," he shrugged. "Right now it looks like Ron is in the lead at 80 Galleons. I'm sure you'll be safe with him."

Hermione hadn't bothered to notice that the bidding had begun. Sure enough, Ron's bidder number, 204, was illuminated —now indicating the 100 Galleon bid. She hadn't seen whoever had bid against him.

The bids for 110, 120, 130, and 140 came in quick succession from four separate wizards, one being her good friend Michael Corner; another, McLaggen. The other two she didn't recognize. The auctioneer called for the 150 bid the first time that she noticed Draco raise his wand.

"200 Galleons," he called out.

Michael, _bless his heart,_ held up his wand and shouted, "250!"

"300 Galleons!" yelled McLaggen, earning him a pat on the back from Ron. The bids now came in fifty Galleon increments.

"500 Galleons," called Malfoy.

"Oh my gods," Hermione murmured. The crowd gasped at the large jump the bid had taken. An unknown wizard, along with Draco and McLaggen drove the bid from 500 to 1,000 Galleons! At this point, all of the girls were crowding around the curtain backstage to catch a glimpse of the action. The tiny auctioneer looked like he was about to faint.

"D-do, do I hear 1100 Galleons? Going once...going _twice_ …"

"Fifteen-hundred Galleons!" Cormac's voice rang out loud and clear, He stood and turned to glare out at the audience, paying special attention to the blonde wizard seated in the row behind him. "And gentlemen," he warned, "I can go all night."

 _What in the name of Merlin is that supposed to mean? That cheeky bastard!_

"Oh, my!" gasped the tiny auctioneer. Before he could call out for the next bid, number 105 was illuminated once more.

"Two-thousand Galleons," calmly called Draco from his seat. The audience gasped.

"Twenty-five-hundred Galleons!" roared McLaggen." He was still standing. Still looking entirely like an arse.

"Goodness. Do I hear 2,600 Galleons? No? 2,500 Galleons going _once..."_

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief seeing that Draco's number was illuminated once more.

"Five-thousand Galleons," he countered.

McLaggen sat down in his chair looking entirely vexed. _"Going once_ _...going twice..."_ yelled the auctioneer. " _SOLD!_ To bidder 1-0-5 with a bid of _5,000 Galleons!"_

 _Five thousand galleons! Was he out of his mind!?_

"Harry! _Psst...Harry!_ " she said, getting her friend's attention over the roaring cheers and applause "That's like...that's nearly ...oh m'gods, nearly _25,000_ pounds!"

"I'm guessing you've never worn that dress to your Monday lunch," Harry said with a wink.

The staging area was in absolute chaos and titters by the time Hermione and Harry made their way to the corridor. Angelina was quite literally bouncing up and down in her gold stilettos and shimmering Griffyndor-red sheath. "Gods, Mione! I _told_ you!" she shrieked.

Once everything had settled down and the Gringotts notes had been collected, the winning bidders were led to the front of the corridor to collect their dates for the evening. George Weasley gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek and some R-rated advice on his way out with Angelina. Ernie raised a brow at her as he collected Mandy. Astoria gave her a small, sad smile as she left with her own date.

Harry did a final security check of the cleared out area. "Everything looks good, you'll be fine with Malfoy I presume?" She nodded. "Kind of silly, me acting as your bodyguard knowing how many times you've saved my arse."

"Very silly. Send Ginny and my godson my love. I'll see you all at the Burrow tomorrow?"

"Of course. Looks like your date has arrived," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Harry pointed his index and middle fingers at his eyeglass lenses and then pointed at Malfoy who had just entered the curtained area.

And then they were alone.

" _Malfoy_ ," she breathed as he moved toward her. He wore what she could only assume were his finest dress robes, white satin vest and tie over a crisp white shirt and slim black trousers.

"Hermione, I just sp- _donated_ 5,000 Galleons to be here with you…" he said, choosing his words carefully. He bowed to her gallantly, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "... _please,_ call me Draco."

" _Draco_." She returned his shy smile.

"I just want to be clear, that, in there..." he said, pointing to the area past the curtain where the auction had taken place, "...wasn't about a pissing contest with McLaggen," he asserted. "I don't care about McLaggen."

"Oh?" she challenged. "What was it about then?"

"Really?" he sighed. Hermione stood very still as he brought his hands up to either side of her head, one large hand cupping her jaw and cheek, the other tangling gently in her hair. His eyes bore into her. "It's about _this,_ Hermione."

She watched intently as he lowered his face to hers; breathing in the spicy citrus scent of his cologne. Her lids fluttered shut as his lips came into contact with her own. Draco's mouth was soft but urgent, parting her lips with a sweep of his tongue. Her hands flew up to grasp the lapels on his robes as he kissed her purposefully and deeply. She matched each pass of his lips and stroke of his tongue as the kiss turned hungry. His right hand clutched somewhat firmly onto the curls at the nape of her neck now, the tender sting, the only thing grounding her to reality. Hermione released a soft whimper as they began to part. Draco smiled against her lips, pressing his against her mouth and jaw several more times before coming up for air. He rested his forehead against hers as their breaths came and left in short little bursts.

" _Merlin_."

Speechless, Hermione could only nod in agreement. In the near distance, they could hear the soft hum of a violin.

"Come on," he said, pulling her toward the music. "I fancy a dance with the most beautiful witch at the ball."

* * *

A/N: Please review, readers. I know you're reading, following, and favoriting, I get the updates. But this newbie writer needs some validation! Questions? Comments? Opinions? I'd love to hear from you! Oh, and check out the stunning jeweled gowns that inspired Hermione's look by checking out my Pinterest board titled LAW inspo! Amanda B. /mandaraverin


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: No one will ever be as incredible as JKR. A/N: Does anyone else get a kick out of Ron shipping Cormione? I haven't mentioned it before this chapter, but McLaggen is actually Ron's Auror partner and that is how their unlikely friendship formed.

* * *

 **FEB 28 2005**

 ** _Romance at Ministry of Magic Date Auction_**

 ** _by Melinda McCord_**

 ** _Ministry counselor and amateur league Quidditch player Draco Malfoy proves that he's better at catching a witch than catching the snitch. And what better witch than everyone's favorite Golden Girl, and DMLE senior analyst, Hermione Granger. Auror Angelina Johnson told us that Granger joined the lineup of eligible witches at Saturday's auction as a last minute favor to Johnson, the organizer of the event. In the past, Granger has been quoted as calling the annual event outdated and sexist. It_ _seems as though a cool 5,000 Galleons is all it took to change her opinion! Other participants included Johnson herself, and_ _Malfoy's ex-fiance, Astoria Greengrass, who solicited a pity bid from Mr. Malfoy in the amount of 50 Galleons. According to sources, Malfoy beat out potential suitors Cormac McLaggen and Ronald Weasley, both who have been romantically linked to Miss Granger. Will it be true love for the ex-death eater turned philanthropist, or will Mr. Malfoy get quashed?_**

Hermione slapped the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ down on her desk.

"Honestly!"

The night before last had been the Ministry Dating Auction and Ball as mentioned in the article. The absence of a Sunday press in Wizarding London had given her a false sense of security that her evening had gone unnoticed to the public. Monday's copy of _The Daily_ proved otherwise.

Her night at the ball had been nothing short of amazing following the somewhat uncomfortable live auction where her coworker/friend/love interest, Draco Malfoy, had dolled out an obscene number of Galleons to spend the evening with her.

Following the auction, Draco greeted the witch with a searing kiss. They spent the next four hours dancing, eating, talking, and laughing. Hermione happily shared a dance with George, Ron, and Michael, each. Draco danced with both Angelina and Astoria on Hermione's suggestion.

When Cormac cut in to dance with her, Hermione anticipated problems between her date and the hotheaded Auror. However, Ron ran interference, inviting Malfoy over to the bar for a fire whiskey, leaving his partner and his ex a moment to talk about what would never be.

Hermione's night ended in a passionate kiss goodnight with Draco in front of the floo — but with no curtain this time to shield them from the small group of photographers and reporters that were there to cover the event, resulting in _The Daily's_ front-page picture laying on her desk this Monday morning.

Ten minutes later found her surrounded by Aurors; Weasley, Potter, and Johnson, bearing tea and baked goods.

"Shouldn't you three be catching dark wizards or something?" she asked, accepting a cup from Harry.

"Slow day," replied Ron, as he brushed the crumbs from his scone off of her desk and onto the floor. He quickly vanished the mess with his wand having caught Hermione's glare.

"Your love life _is_ a job, Mione," Angelina said. "One that I take quite seriously." She perched on the edge of a low bookcase and leisurely sipped her tea.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Harry, who made a lot of ruckus as he rummaged through her desk.

"Aha!" he emerged, holding up a yellow highlighter at the precise moment that Draco entered Hermione's office.

"Ah, the exciting life of an Auror. Is that muggle pen imbued with dark magic, Potter?" he asked. He smiled and winked at Hermione who was standing near the windows of her large corner office.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Malfoy?" quipped Ron.

"Ron!" scolded Hermione and Angelina.

"Nice, Weasley," Draco replied. "But I find that nothing bothers me today. Good morning, ladies," he said, turning to Hermione and Angelina.

" _Malfoy_ ," Angelina greeted. " _The_ _Prophet_ got a beautiful shot of you two," she said, handing him the newspaper. A photo of the pair sat just above the empty rectangle where the accompanying article had evidently been removed. Draco smiled at the moving picture as he remembered the intense liplock they were engaged in just seconds before the image was captured, rendering them breathless and gazing at each other with pure lust. "See you later, Mione. Come on boys," Angelina called to Ron and Harry. "Let's leave these two alone."

Ron grabbed a third scone and followed his future sister-in-law. "I'm watching you, Malfoy," he said on the way out.

"Right behind you, Ron," called Harry. "Just to be clear, _nothing_ can bother you, Malfoy?" he asked, turning his attention to the blonde wizard.

"That's right, Potter," he replied, slipping his arm around his favorite witch.

"Harry, did you honestly transfigure a frame for this?" scolded Hermione who held up a crude wooden frame. Inside sat the newspaper clipping, with the words ' _Draco Malfoy proves that he's better at catching a witch than catching the snitch'_ outlined in fluorescent yellow marker.

"This is ridiculous!" Draco said, skimming over the article over Hermione's shoulder. "I haven't played seeker since we were fifth-years. If this McCord bint bothered to do her research she would know that I play chaser for the DMLE!" Harry continued to grin from ear to ear. "Don't look so smug, Potter, we are on the same team you know?"

"I'll be taking this," said Harry as he plucked it from Hermione's hands before he hurried off to his office, undoubtedly to display his new artwork.

"That's _your_ best mate," Draco said, pointing a finger at Hermione.

"He is."

"I can't believe they would go after my seeker skills. Bloody _Prophet._ "

"Let's just call it a shoddy piece of journalism and leave it at that. I mean, the article did say that you were engaged to Astoria Greengrass."

Draco wrinkled his brow at that. "Oh. My. Gods! _Were_ you engaged!?"

"I never proposed to her if that's what you're thinking. Nor did we date. But we were to be married, so technically yes."

"To be married?" Hermione choked on her sip of tea and spluttered. "Tell me how that works!"

"Simple. We were betrothed. I was five or six when the contract was made. I really didn't know much about it."

"An arranged marriage. You've got to be kidding me."

"It's pretty typical amongst pureblood families. Or _was_ , pre-war."

"So what happened then? With the arrangement?"

He laughed. "Nothing, Tori and I are marrying in a fortnight," he teased. "Is that going to be a problem?" He pulled Hermione to him by the waist.

"Ugh, _Tori._ What kind of a name is that?"

"A nickname, a derivative of Astoria," he replied, now nuzzling her ear. "What kind of name is _Mione_? It sounds as though you're five when Weaslebee calls you that!"

"Ron isn't the only one that calls me that. You're jealous!" she replied as she wiggled out of his grasp.

"And you're jealous of Tori!" he countered, laughed, and pulled her back."

"Well, you're technically engaged!" she shrieked.

"Sorry, love, I'll owl the Greengrasses right away and officially call it off. Let's see: _'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass, I'm sorry to inform you that I spent my Saturday evening with the Wizarding World's Golden Girl. One kiss from this exquisite witch has ruined me for all other women..."_

"Stop it, Malfoy," she giggled. "You're making me blush, you flirt."

"In that case, _Granger_ …" he said, noticing they had reverted to surnames, "...I shall endeavor to flirt with you more often." He plucked her hands from his chest and held her wrists in his hands. "Did I mention that you were the most beautiful witch at the ball?" She nodded her head, looking up at him with doe-like eyes. "Can I see you again, Hermione?"

"Are you not seeing me just now?" she teased.

"Don't be coy. I'm asking if I can take you out, just the two of us…" the pretty witch continued to feign innocence "...outside of work, outside of Monday lunch…" she raised her brows in question. He growled, "I'm asking to take you out on a proper date you insufferable witch!"

"Hmm," she pretended to think it over. "To be clear —am I insufferable or exquisite?" Draco laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

" _Both_."

* * *

I am considering a short story about Hermione's week with Charlie. How do my fellow Dramione shippers feel about that? Reviews are love! Thank you to all of my lovely guest reviewers who I have not been able to thank in a DM. Just a reminder, you are seeing this chapter 3 days early, so expect the next chapter around 8/24.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Rowling is our Queen! A/N: I work best in short chapters, so this chapter was split into two. I do not have an Alpha, Beta or a Charlie (haha) and I go crazy doing my own edits. That being said, Chapter 9, MARCH 4 2005 PART II is on deck and will be posted tomorrow or Friday.

* * *

 **MARCH 4 2005**

 _DEC 31 2004_

 _"I'm never getting over her, Theo. I'm going to live a life of celi-celebri-celibricy..."_

 _"Celibacy?" Theo supplied._

 _"...yes, that, and then die alone."_

 _"There's no reason you can't get laid..."_

 _"No, I'm done with that. I don't want any other witch."_

 _"Well, if you want to give it a go with a wizard...I mean, you're not exactly my type..."_

 _Draco groaned, rolling to his side. "Fuck you, Nott."_

 _Theo gasped, sounding affronted. "At least buy me dinner!"_

 _"Ha, ha. Fuck-an-egg, Theo. What am I going to do?"_

 _"Did you just say 'fuck-an-egg?'"_

 _"Mm, muggle phrase. Potter says it."_

 _"Yes, my handsome, and unfortunately straight friend Dean says it, too, but I'm certain that it's 'Fucking A' not 'fuck-an-egg'."_

 _"Fucking A? That makes no sense."_

 _"Yet, 'fuck-an-egg'_ does

 _Draco shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not a muggle. Maybe she'd love me then...you know...if I'd have been Muggle-born, like her."_

 _"Mate, it has nothing to do with your blood status and everything to do with hers._ You _were the one who was a prick about it."_

 _"Yes, and I hate myself every day because of it."_

 _"Look, Draco, I'm only going to say this once. Hermione is one of my closest friends. My life could have been hell that last year, but it wasn't, because of her. But you've grown up a lot. You're different. Given your history, I doubt she's considered you romantically. But I know Hermione. I know that if you seek friendship from her, she will freely give it."_

 _"Remember my Birthday?" Draco asked. He smiled._

 _The Greats June meet-up had fallen exactly on Draco's birthday that year, June 5th, and Theo had brought him along as his guest. Upon learning that it was the blonde wizards 24th birthday, Hermione dragged_ her _guest, George Weasley, down the block to the building that housed his flat and shop. They returned an hour later with a chocolate cake made by Hermione and decorated in Slytherin silver and green, complete with charmed candles that George had spelled to emit a variety of embarrassing sounds every time the wizard failed to extinguish one. The gesture endeared Draco even more to the witch; as if he weren't already completely besotted._

 _"That's exactly what I mean, Draco. She is a great friend. You already get on pretty well with her and her friends at work. Try to get time alone with her. Then, who knows? If she can get past this whole 'pale and brooding' thing..."_

 _"You really think I'd have any chance at all?"_

 _Theo shrugged. "You know, it's a muggle tradition to make a New Year's Resolution —a goal for the upcoming year."_

 _"Granger?"_

 _"Granger," Theo repeated, holding up the mostly empty bottle of fire whisky. "Happy New Year, my friend."_

It had been nearly two months to the day that Draco and Theo had sat on the floor in one of the studies at Nott Manor drunk off their arses and came up with a plan. One in which Draco had decided to _do_ something about 'the Granger situation,' as Nott called it.

Draco had seen very little of Hermione since Monday morning in her office. She had canceled their weekly lunch due to reporters hanging about the ministry entrance. On Tuesday, he sent an owl to let her know the details for their Friday night date: he would pick her up at 7:00 for dinner and a play in muggle London. He had spent the rest of the week at trial, counting down the hours.

On Friday, he woke in a joyous mood. He laid out his favorite three-piece suit and shined his leather brogues in anticipation of his date that evening. Tonight would be the culmination of everything that he had been waiting for.

The ball last week had been nearly perfect —Merlin! That _dress!_ And Hermione had kissed him back with such passion. But as wonderful as it was, it kept popping into his head that she was there with him because he won the auction. Maybe if he hadn't, some other wizard would have swept her off of her feet. But tonight she had a choice. She said 'yes' to _him._ And tonight, he was going to let her know exactly how he felt about her.

Draco was surprised to not find his witch in her office that morning. Davies, her pimply-faced assistant fresh out of Hogwarts said that she had owled in to say that she would be late. This concerned Draco since she was never absent or tardy. He made a visit to the Auror offices to check with Potter and Weasley, but they were out on assignment. He spotted Angelina on his way out.

"Auror Johnson!" he called.

"Yes, Malfoy? And just 'Johnson' or 'Angelina' is fine, no need to be so formal."

"I was wondering if you had any idea where Granger is?"

"My fiance owled to tell me that he was stepping out of the shop to help her with something this morning," she informed him. "He didn't go into details."

"Thank you, _Angelina._ "

Draco had a difficult time concentrating on work with Hermione missing. He was glad to know that she was presumably safe and in the company of George Weasley, but he sensed that something was wrong. He couldn't fully relax without seeing her. An hour later there was a soft knock on his door; Hermione entered looking forlorn.

"Love, what happened?" he asked, going to her and gathering her in his arms. He hugged her tight while she sobbed into his chest.

"Crooks died."

"Crooks? Ah, _Crook_ shanks, your familiar?"

"Mmhm," she sniffled.

"I am so, so sorry, love. I wish you would've floo called or owled."

"It was really early this morning, you wouldn't have been in your office yet," she explained. "I called George and he came t-to…" she said in between sniffles, "...to get rid of..."

Draco really was grateful for Hermione's support system, especially since she lived so far from her parents, but it bothered him that _he_ wasn't the one who was there for her. He was determined to change that. "Shh, there, there," he said, rubbing circles into her back. "I'm going to the floo offices first thing to connect the floo between our flats. Is that okay?" Hermione nodded into his shoulder. "I'll tell you what, let's do dinner and a play some other time. We can stay in tonight. I'll get some of that muggle carryout that Theo's such a fan of, and we can read or watch that picture box thingy. How does that sound?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

"It sounds wonderful, Draco. But you already purchased the theater tickets," she replied. "Knowing you, they were the most expensive."

"Hush, you," he said. He swiped a stray tear with his thumb. "Do you remember what I spent on our first date? 5,000 Galleons, was it?" That elicited a smile from Hermione. "I'll give the tickets to a couple who will really appreciate them," he paused. "So, are we on for our night _in_?" he asked hopefully.

"Can we wear our pajamas and eat ice cream directly out of the container?" she asked between sniffles.

"Whatever you want, princess. But you should know that I sleep in the nude," he joked, earning him a soft chuckle.

* * *

A/N: Date night is up next! Finally some much needed alone time for these two. It's almost ready and will be posted tomorrow or the next day. Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter. A/N: Sorry for posting later than planned as RL got in the way. This chapter was my initial idea for this fic. I considered posting as a one-shot.

* * *

 **MARCH 4 2005: PART II**

The floo in Hermione's flat roared to life at half-seven. Unable to embrace her since he was carrying a bag under each arm, Draco leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. There was something wonderfully intimate about the kiss. Yes, he had kissed her before and after the charity ball —deep, sensual kisses that rendered them both breathless. But kissing her in a familiar way as he had just done felt amazing, like something that he wanted to do every day for the rest of his life.

"It looks like the floo connection was successful," Hermione commented, pulling him from his thoughts.

"It appears so," he said, looking around her lavish apartment. "So, this is what you get for being best mates with The Chosen One."

"Ron's his best mate as well, and he didn't get anything," she replied in a teasing tone.

"What did Weasley do with all of his reward money anyway? I'm surprised the three of you didn't buy this together."

"He fixed up his mum and dad's place. He stayed here while I was at Hogwarts and then he moved in with George," she said. "We promised Mrs. Weasley that we wouldn't live together until...until we were engaged," she added quietly, leaving the awkward comment hanging in the air.

 _No matter, she's not with Weasley anymore._

Draco set the packages down on the small rectangular table in the large open room adjacent to the kitchen and took in her appearance. How one witch could possibly be this adorable _and_ sexy, he did not know. She wore fleece leggings and an oversized beige-colored jumper that hung completely off of one shoulder, an alluring lace halter peeking out. Her hair was loose and a little wild, making her look thoroughly shagged. On her feet...

"Granger, what in Salazar's name are you wearing?" he asked, pointing at fuzzy pink slippers. "Are those... _rabbits_?"

Hermione laughed. "Crooks hated these. He tried to attack them whenever I wore them."

"You had him for a long time, didn't you, love?" he asked as he pulled her into a comforting embrace.

"Fourteen years," she confirmed.

Draco removed his coat and draped it on the back of a chair. Hermione was delighted to find that he, too, had dressed for the occasion —fleece black bottoms slung low on his hips, and a Foulmouth Falcons T-shirt.

After dinner and a tour of her flat, the pair found themselves comfortably lounging on her sofa, Hermione snuggled up to his chest as he fed them bites of chocolate chocolate-chip ice cream as they finished off the bottle of red wine that they had opened with dinner. The 'telly' as Hermione had called it was on in the background —a singing competition— but neither was paying much attention.

"This is the best first date I've ever had," she told him honestly.

"You're not counting the ball as our first date then?" he asked, lazily twirling her hair with his free hand.

"You _paid_ for me! I was merely an escort," she replied, haughtily.

"It was the only way that I could get you to go out with me; you've been turning me down for weeks!" he complained and gave her his best pouty-face.

"I know." Hermione turned and boldly climbed onto his lap. "I'm terribly sorry," she said, peppering kisses to his jaw. Draco sighed deeply when her wet tongue traced the shell of his ear. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?" she purred.

"Fuck, _yes_ ," he replied, claiming her mouth. She tasted like chocolate and wine. Unlike the last kisses they shared nearly a week ago, there would be nothing and no one to interrupt them this time.

Hermione thread her fingers through his hair as he kissed a path from her mouth to her neck. She tilted her head back to allow him better access.

Draco reached to set the empty ice cream container that he had still been holding on to an end table just within reach. The weight of the spoon inside toppled the container. "Shit, sorry Granger," he muttered, pulling away to tend to the mess.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered, pulling his face back to hers and biting his bottom lip. The small puddle of chocolate vanished with a flick of her wrist. Then, the strangest thing. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco watched the container levitate in the air and deposit itself into the rubbish container in the kitchen. Likewise, the spoon floated into the sink.

He pulled away from their intense snog, completely breathless. "Did you just do non-verbal, wandless magic in the middle of snogging me?"

She shrugged. " _Kiss me,_ " she bossed, licking her way into his mouth.

" _Her...mio...ne!_ " he said in between kisses, "That was completely incredible. _You_ are incredible, my sorceress."

Draco flipped her onto her back, running his lips over her neck and jaw. She would feel precisely how badly he wanted her in this position. His hands slid under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach and the tempting lace just barely covering the rest of her. He laved his tongue across her collarbone and drew the soft skin just below into his mouth intent on leaving a mark as he rolled his hips against hers. In turn, she grabbed his bum and pulled him more firmly toward her center. " _Fuck_ , Hermione." She responded with a visceral moan. He kissed his way up from her chin and angled his mouth against hers once more, their tongues moving together in a sensual tango. "Tell me what you want, princess," he whispered. His hand traveled from her pert, lace-covered breast down to the waistband of her pants. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

"I..." she said, panting. "I think we should slow down." She said, gently pushing him away.

 _What the!?_

"I'm sorry," Draco replied. He lifted himself off of her and scrambled back. "I'm terribly sorry, Hermione. I got carried aw—"

" _Draco,"_ she interrupted and followed him into an upright position. "I _want_ you..." she assured him. "...but you have a portkey to France at 6:00 a.m.," she explained. "It's nearly 2:00. I have been up for 21 hours straight and I'm exhausted. I don't want our first time to be a hurried thing. I want to spend the night with you and share breakfast...wait, why are you smiling like a bloody idiot?" she demanded.

" _You_ want me." He took her hands into his own and pulled her into his arms.

"I think that is fairly obvious."

The blonde wizard smiled. "You really want to cook breakfast for me, Granger?"

Hermione smiled and snuggled into him once more. "Ten more minutes."

The pair got settled for the second time that night. Draco pulled a blanket off of the back of the sofa and draped it around his witch who was once again snuggled into his chest. Outside, the pitter patter of rain could be heard against the window panes. He kissed her head. "I'm just not ready to let you go quite yet," he told her. Her reply was a soft snore. Draco chuckled and pulled her close.

Ten minutes later, at 2:01 Draco carried a soundly sleeping Hermione to her bed and tucked her in.

2:11 He was still trying to figure which button on which remote turned off the _blasted_ DVR.

2:14 The first crack of lightning lit up the darkened flat, followed by a roar of thunder.

2:19 He slipped into his shoes and made his way to the fireplace —the rain coming down in earnest now. Just as he grabbed a handful of floo powder, he heard a cry of distress from the partially open door of Hermione's bedroom.

" _NOOOOOOOOO!"_

 _Hermione?_

"Of course, it's her, you bloody idiot," he muttered to himself as he brushed the powder off of his hands and rushed into her bedroom.

"Love, what's wrong?" he asked, climbing onto the bed to gently shake her. "Come on, wake up."

" _Please_ _stop! I didn't take it,"_ she whimpered. " _PLEEEASE!"_

"It's just a dream, Granger. Wake up!" She continued to thrash and whimper, despite his attempts.

 _How do I help her? What am I to do?_

"Forgive me, Granger," he said quietly. " _Aguamenti!"_ he intoned, causing a cool stream of water to shoot out of the tip of his wand. He waved it a bit at the end allowing the water to fall over the sleeping witch rather than hit her square in the face.

She continued to stir and quietly repeated something that sounded like ' _run'_. Perhaps the water had done the trick and she was giving him a head start before she retaliated?

"What's that, love?"

" _Noooo, no,"_ she muttered, clearly not yet awake. " _Ron...Ron...Harry...Ron"._

 _Oh._

" _Lumos._ " Draco lit up his wand; his eyes were immediately drawn to Hermione's phone sitting on her bedside table.

 _Thank Merlin for Dean's phone lessons._

The wizard flipped open the muggle device. He found the phone book and used the arrow button to scroll through the list of names.

 _I wonder how often she speaks to 'Krum, Viktor'?_

He bypassed the entry for 'Mum and dad,' and selected 'Potter, Harry.'

" _Mione?"_ answered a half-asleep Potter.

"It's not Mio... _Hermione_ , it's Malfoy. I'm at her flat and she won't wake up." He paused and looked down at the sleeping witch. "She's obviously in distress and she's calling for you and…"

" _And_ what?"

 _Weasley._

"Nothing. Can you come?"

"I'll be right there."

Six minutes later, Draco heard the sound of the floo and rushed to the main room. He emerged just as Potter stepped out of the fireplace closely followed by his plucky sidekick —both in bedclothes, looking more disheveled than usual.

"Ron's usually better at this than I am," Harry explained. "Where is she?"

"Bedroom," Draco said, leading the other men through the darkened flat with his illuminated wand. "Just for the record, I wasn't spending the night." Harry looked at him, eyebrow cocked. "Not that it's any of your business," he added. "She fell asleep on the couch while we were watching the telly. I was just getting ready to floo home when I heard her cry out. Must be some dream."

Draco moved aside, allowing the Aurors entrance.

 _"Nightmare_ more like it. Bellatrix," Ron provided.

 _"Ron! Please don't hurt Ron..."_

"Shhh, it's okay, Mione, I'm not hurt. I'm right here," Ron said in a gentle tone.

Draco watched from the doorway as the two wizards approached the bed and climbed in on either side of Hermione.

"Hermione, it's Harry. Ron's here; I'm here. We're safe; _you're_ safe. We're all together."

" _Harry?"_

"I'm right here Mione. Wake up."

 _"Ron?"_

"I'm right here. I've got you."

Potter wrapped his arms around his friend as she came awake. "It felt so real this time," she explained while she sobbed and hiccoughed into his chest.

Weasley patted her back not unlike the way Draco had seen his aunt Andromeda pat his cousin Teddy when he was an infant.

The Slytherin quietly slipped out of the room, the scene having become a little too _Hufflepuff_ for his comfort.

Draco paced the flat listening to Hermione's sobs until Potter emerged from the bedroom, softly closing the door behind him. "Same as always, Bellatrix back when we were captured and brought to the manor."

Draco nodded in understanding. It had been the same incident that had plagued him for years. "Thank you for coming, Potter."

The dark-haired wizard clapped Draco on the shoulder and explained his need to get home to his very pregnant wife "Look," he said, looking rather uncomfortable. "Ron's just going to stay until she falls back asleep."

Draco swallowed the massive lump that had formed in his throat. "I'll just...I'll just follow you out then," he said, sounding utterly defeated.

* * *

A/N: I'd love to hear what you think. Sorry for the rough editing (or lack of) in this chapter. I really need a Beta! Volunteers? PLEASE REVIEW!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, but I am a lover of Harry Potter. A/N: Are you still with me, dear readers? This chapter has been sitting here in need of editing, but I can't keep it to myself any longer. Please share your thoughts!

* * *

 **MAR 6 2005**

In the early hours of Saturday, Draco Malfoy was the happiest he had ever been—loving on his witch, knowing that she was _it_ for him and praying to the gods that she would feel the same one day.

Then, with a stroke of lightning, everything changed.

In their short conversation outside of Hermione's bedroom door, Potter had explained that Hermione's nightmares—in which she relived the horrors of that night back at Malfoy Manor—were nearly always triggered by thunderstorms.

Hermione had a fairly disciplined routine of checking the weather report on the muggle news (apparently muggles had devices that could predict the weather) and would take Dreamless Sleep on stormy nights. The potion was known to be highly addictive; so, being the sensible witch that she was, she only took it when absolutely necessary.

Draco's guilt was now twofold; not only had he been present on the night that still plagued her, but now he had distracted her from her routine and hadn't awoken her before putting her to bed.

As planned, Draco took an international portkey to France on Saturday morning to visit his mother for the weekend. But, after a day and a half of moping about, she insisted that he go home early.

He flooed to Hermione's flat that afternoon but soon realized that she was at The Burrow for Sunday dinner. He came back for nothing. She was with Weasley and his family.

 _Her_ family _._

Hermione was also out of sorts on Sunday having not heard from Draco. She bid the Weasleys' farewell and gave James one last kiss 'goodbye' on his chubby cheek before she flooed back to her apartment. She breathed a sigh of relief upon discovering a slip of parchment with a short note scrawled in elegant script.

 _Hermione,_

 _I apologize for stopping by unannounced. I decided to come back a day early. Feel free to owl or floo over when you return._

 _-DM_

She didn't waste a moment grabbing her coat and heading through the floo once more.

"I missed you," he told her, securing the witch in his hold. Apparently, he had been waiting right next to the fireplace awaiting her possible arrival. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry."

She looked up at him, "Whatever for?"

He stared back as if to say _'really?'_

"If anything, _I_ should be apologizing to _you_ ," she told him. He replied with another look of incredulity.

Draco led her to the kitchen where he put on the tea kettle. "I mean it," Hermione continued. First, I acted like a complete slag and then told you that you had to leave. Second, I fall asleep on our date which is just...mortifying," she explained, ticking off the offenses with her fingers. "Third, my ex-boyfriend ends up in bed with me, which I'm told that you know about?" She looked at the wizard who nodded his confirmation, though his back was turned to her. "Let's see, am I forgetting anything else that pretty much makes me the worst girlfriend ever?"

Draco spun around. " _Are_ you my girlfriend, Hermione?"

"Well, I-I just thought" she stuttered, "...rather, I assu-"

"Don't misunderstand my question, love," he said, kneeling in front of her. "I want nothing more," he told her honestly, brushing a curl behind her ear.

"Then, yes, I suppose that's what I am," she smiled and leaned in for a gentle kiss. The kettle whistled and Draco made to attend to it.

"Mrs. Weasley says 'thank you once again for the tickets' by the way," Hermione called out. "You never told me that's who you gave our theater tickets to."

"I didn't want to come across as a complete kiss ass. As you know, I work closely with Arthur's department and I've really come to respect the man. He's become somewhat avuncular to me."

"Yes, that's Arthur," Hermione agreed, accepting a cup prepared just the way she liked it —a dash of milk, one sugar.

"He had mentioned something about Molly settling into her annual depression just before the twins' birthday," Draco told her. "I thought it would give them something nice to do. Get her out of the house."

"That was very kind of you. Everyone said so, _even_ Ron." The wizard's eyes fell upon hearing that name. "What's going on in that head of yours, Draco? Talk to me."

"He loves you, Hermione. He would do anything to keep you safe."

Hermione was confused by the direction of the conversation, but she went to her forlorn wizard and wrapped her arms around him. "Yes?"

Draco pulled her to stand between his legs and held her tight. "Hermione, last night... _Merlin_ ," he said, rubbing a hand down his face. "Last night was everything I've been wanting with you," he told her. "For years."

" _Years?"_ she squeaked.

He continued, "Do you remember our lunch a few weeks back when we went to that muggle place and shared that great big salad?" She nodded. He let out a short laugh. "I remember you took some jab at me about how I couldn't share…"

"That sharing was too plebeian for you," she amended.

"Yes, that's right. And I said that it was something a couple would do?"

"I do remember that."

"Princess, that's how I've pictured us. That's what I've been _waiting_ for. That's what got me through the days when I didn't want..." he cleared his throat, "when I didn't want to live anymore." He spoke the last part in a whisper. His voice quivered.

Hermione is flummoxed by his last confession. " _Draco,_ " she whispered, hugging him to her chest.

"I'm not telling you this to feel sorry for me, love. I was a coward," he told her. "That night," he paused and shook his head, "Hermione, I thought his screams alone would rip the doors off the cellar."

 _Oh._

"And what did I do, a coward? I couldn't even...Gods!" he said, pulling away to hold out her arm. He brushed over the 'mudblood' scar, his fingers followed by his lips. "How could I let her do this to you?" he whispered against her skin. His eyes moved to look up at her. Tears fell from his eyes. "How could I do nothing when _he_ was ready to scream off the goddamn cellar doors and charge in there without a bloody wand?"

"Oh, darling." Hermione hugged him even tighter to her chest, soothing her hands over his face and hair.

"How can you possibly forgive me, Hermione?"

She pulled up his face in both hands. "If she were here right now...Bellatrix," she asked, "would you try to stop her?"

"In a heartbeat, Hermione. With. My. Life," he replied with conviction.

"Then that's it, I suppose. I know I cry out for Ron _and Harry_ , but we don't have to call on them every time I have a nightmare. We can learn to confront my nightmares together if that's what you want." He nodded.

"I'm scared to death that I'm going to lose you, Hermione. You probably think that I've gone mad. We've been on one date! But I can hardly begin to understand how I actually got you and now I'm just fearful that I'll fuck it up."

She continued to stroke his hair lovingly. "I'm willing to give this a chance if you are."

He nodded again, hugging her fiercely. He swiped his thumbs at the corner of her eyes. Hermione hadn't even realized when _she_ had begun crying. He pulled her to his lap and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her with everything that he had. Grief, longing, passion, desperation, _love_ perhaps, were conveyed through his kiss.

"Spend the night with me, Hermione."

She nodded, going in for another heady kiss.

"If you have another nightmare," he rasped, pulling away, "there is no bleeding way in hell that I'm snuggling with Weasley."

She laughed as he continued to kiss her, smiling against her mouth. His lips made their way to her jaw and her eyes fluttered shut. She pulled him up to stand. "Come on…" she said and they _both_ knew she meant to the bedroom.

His mouth was on her neck as they inched their way toward his bed. She unknotted his tie and furiously loosened the buttons down the front of his Oxford as he untangled her jumper from her arms.

"Make me yours," she whispered as he lowered her to the bed.

* * *

Hermione disappeared to the loo after the second or was it third time making her come undone. "I thought you left…" he told her upon her return.

"No, of course not, did you want me to leave?" she joked as she curled up into his chest stealing his warmth. He pulled her close.

"I want you right here," he said. "Don't ever leave me."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: JK owns HP. A/N: Enjoy!

* * *

 **MAR 31, 2005**

"Hermione, have you seen my green tie?"

"There's a tie in the top drawer," she called from the en-suite.

Draco rummaged through the drawer where he kept an extra pair or two of pants amongst Hermione's knickers.

"This is my gray tie!" he called. "I wanted the green one," he mumbled as he continued to sort through. He was just about to close the drawer when something sheer and scandalous caught his eye. "Um, love, what on earth is this?"

"It's just a pair of knickers. Do you _mind_?" she said, stuffing the article in question back in the drawer as she hurried past him. Draco quickly pulled them back out.

"These," he told her, "are _not_ knickers. Not any knickers _I've_ seen." The wizard examined the fabric up close, turning them every which way, both confused and aroused by the sparse strip of sheer mesh. "Where does your arse go?"

"It _doesn't_ , I suppose." Hermione adored her boyfriend, she really did, and his curiosity of all things _muggle_. But she didn't have the time or energy to explain the intricacies of a thong this early in the morning. "They're special knickers so you don't see the lines through your clothing. I wore that under my dress at the charity ball."

Draco's eyes grew wide. "You were wearing _this_ under that dress!?" he asked, dangling the knickers off of one finger. "Holy hippogriffs, this is even better than what I was picturing," he muttered. " _Such_ a bloody gentleman I was that night."

"No one told you to be a gentleman," Hermione told him, saucily, trailing a finger down his arm, then snatching the knickers from his hand. "If you don't make me late for work with this incessant conversation, I'll wear them to yours tonight."

"Deal," he said waggling his eyebrows. "And about that, don't you think that it would make sense if all of our things were in one place?"

" _Draco_ …"

The pair had been dating for about a month and had revisited this particular discussion at least a half a dozen times. Draco saw no reason as to why they couldn't just _live_ together. They spent the weekends and most weeknights at Hermione's place; staying at his only once he ran out of laundry, as they would be tonight.

Hermione had never lived with a boyfriend, and this was Draco's first _real_ relationship. Things between them were good, really, _really_ good. But it had only been a few weeks, and Hermione didn't know if they were ready for such a big step.

Truly, she loved nothing more than falling asleep next to her wizard. She felt calm and safe in his arms. In fact, she hadn't had a nightmare since the night before they began sharing a bed.

Even after all these weeks, Hermione blushed down to her knickers thinking of their first night together.

Following a rather emotional weekend apart, Draco had taken her to bed and made love to her slow and sweet for the first time. His eyes never left her as he whispered, _'You are so beautiful'_ and _'I can't believe that you're mine'._ They fell asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, sweaty and sated.

Sometime in the middle of the night, a more feral Draco emerged. He woke the sleeping witch by placing feather-light kisses at the base of her neck. When she stirred he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, ' _Can I taste you, Hermione?'_ before disappearing under the covers to do exactly that. After which, he flipped her over, pressing her shoulders into the mattress and pulling her up by the hips without discussion (aside from a very candid, ' _I'm going to fuck you now'_ ) and took her at a punishing pace from behind.

In short, he was the perfect lover.

Their relationship held the comfortable familiarity that she had with Ron; the raw, unbridled passion that she had discovered with Charlie; and the romance that she had experienced with Viktor Krum (no, not from her time at Hogwarts, but from two years back when they reconnected and briefly dated).

Yes, Draco had wined and dined her in Paris; and yes, they had christened nearly every surface in both of their flats. But most nights were spent snuggled up in front of the fireplace, reading.

 _Cute and couple_ y, just as Draco had wanted.

* * *

Ginny Potter was officially three days past her due date when Hermione was called to St. Mungos later that night.

"Draco, wake up! We've got to get to the hospital," she said, looking for her clothes. "Ugh, and I'm beginning to understand how you feel, I have _no_ clothes here."

"The hospital? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm about to be an Auntie again!"

Draco smiled at her, "Congratulations," he told her, sitting up to embrace her.

"Well, come on, get up then!" she said, excitedly. "We've got to go!"

"You go ahead, love," he told her. "This is a family thing. I don't want to impose."

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed her wizard's large hand in both of hers. "Sweetheart, _you_ are a part of this family."

Draco was touched by her sincerity. She hadn't said _those_ _three little words_ yet ( _technically_ speaking, neither had he), but calling him _family_ seemed as good as at the moment. He wanted to tell her he loved her right then, but rather he replied with the petulant entitlement of being the sole Malfoy heir.

"If that were true, you'd let me move in."

"Okay."

"I mean, I sincerely appreciate-"

" _Malfoy,_ " she interrupted. "I said _okay._ "

"Wait, _what?_ You're just going to give in that easily?"

Hermione laughed and threw her hands up. "Isn't that what you want?" The wizard continued to look at her in disbelief. "Look, Draco. If I would have let you take the reigns on this relationship, we could have been together for months now. Years, even. It _is_ fairly logical being that we spen- _aaugh!"_ she screamed as he pulled her onto the bed and rolled on top of her.

"Come here, Miss _Fairly Logical._ You've just made me the happiest wizard in the world," he told her, leaning down for a kiss. " _Logically,_ I want to show you my appreciation," he teased, grinding against her.

Hermione laughed. "Stop it! We have to go and see the baby," she said, trying to push him off.

"Let's make one instead," he said, seductively.

"Now I know you've gone round the bend," she replied.

* * *

The family waiting room of St. Mungo's was packed with two things that Draco once despised most: Gryffindors and _Weasleys._

While he wasn't exactly BFF's with his girlfriend's ex, they did bond over Hermione and Quidditch, and he sort of _genuinely_ liked the rest of the family. Plus, _he_ had the girl and Weasley wasn't trying to hex him over it, so there was that. He gave the redhead a congratulatory handshake and offered a friendly hug to Weasley's girlfriend, Romilda.

He moved to greet the elder Weasley brother and his wife while trying to not get too nauseated over Ron and Hermione's teary embrace that lasted entirely too long in Draco's opinion. The only saving grace was James Potter, their mutual godchild who was propped up on Ron's hip between the two of them. Draco didn't miss how Ron immediately ran to wrap his arms around Romilda after tearing himself away from Hermione and handing off the sleepy toddler to Molly.

"What about me," Draco asked his witch quietly. "Don't I get any reassurance?"

"Oh no," Hermione said, reaching up to whisper in his ear. "I _like_ you jealous."

They congratulated Mr. and Mrs. Weasley next. "Hey, mini-Potter," he said to the tot in Molly's arms. "Are you ready for your Quidditch lesson on Sunday?" The small boy nodded shyly into his grandmums shoulder.

"Well," said Arthur, "we've all been in to see the little one, so you two can go in whenever you're ready."

Harry was arranging the pillows around his sleeping wife as Draco and Hermione entered Ginny's room. He put a finger to his lips as he spotted the new visitors.

"She just fell asleep. She's completely knackered," he said as he pulled Hermione into a warm embrace. "I love you, sis. I'm glad you're here."

"I will always be here for you, Harry Potter. Haven't you learned?"

"I suppose I have," he chuckled.

"Congratulations. I love you."

Draco turned away from the private moment trying very hard to not to feel bitter at the words that fell from her lips. It wasn't a romantic love that she had for Potter. It would be different when she said it to him.

 _It will mean something different._

George and Angelina, the baby's godparents were in the corner of the room cooing over the new arrival in his bassinet.

"Hermione, Malfoy, would you like to meet my Godson?" asked George, picking up the tiny bundle. Hermione smiled up at George as he placed the swaddled babe in her arms. She stood on her toes and kissed him on his cheek. "Happy Birthday, George. You'll have to teach this one all sorts of mischief. Make Uncle Fred proud." They shared a teary smile.

Angelina accepted a congratulatory hug from Draco and clasped Hermione's free hand as she comforted her wizard. "Mione's right, love. This is a happy day now," Angelina told George. He smiled despite the fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

Hermione snuggled the baby boy a few moments longer and breathed in his baby scent before handing him over to Harry. "Draco, would you like to hold the baby?" Potter offered. To general surprise, he nodded.

"Teddy was already James' age by the time I met him, so I've never held one this small," the blonde explained nervously.

"It's just like holding the quaffle," Potter said, shifting the newborn into Draco's arms. "Don't drop it." he laughed. "Malfoy, meet my son, Albus _Severus_ Potter." Draco's eyes snapped up.

"You named him after my godfather?" Potter nodded. Draco laughed quietly in spite of his watery eyes. He watched as baby Albus grabbed ahold of his finger with two hands. _Salazar help him_ , he wanted one of these. "You despised Snape, Potter. And he, you."

"A lot of great men were put in a position to do things that they didn't want to do," he said simply, clapping his once rival on the back. "People change."

* * *

Friday night and Saturday were spent moving Draco's things into Hermione's flat. Theo, Dean, and Neville had all dropped by to help. Draco poured a firewhisky for Dean and Neville and thanked the men for their assistance. Theo stepped out of the floo just as Draco saw the friends out. "Here's the package that you asked me to pick up," he said, handing over a cardboard box with a handle.

"What's that?" asked Hermione who had just emerged from making room for Draco's books amongst her vast collection.

"It's your housewarming gift."

Theo said goodbye for the evening. "I'm really happy for you, mate," he told Draco before stepping into the floo.

"Housewarming gift?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the oblong box. I'm not the one who moved."

"Just humor me," Draco said. He opened the box angling it downward and two kneazle-kittens clambered onto the hardwood floor.

"Oh my goodness! They are just precious," she said, kneeling beside Draco on the floor and scooping up the nearest kitten. They looked completely different aside from their matching red bows.

"They actually are brothers."

"Hard to believe that these two came from the same litter," Hermione agreed.

"Half-bloods," Draco joked of the half cat/half-kneazles. "Our new little family, Hermione," he told her. "Until we have a couple of half-bloods of our own." He smiled, grabbing the other kitten by the scruff, who scratched, then bit him.

Hermione nearly missed the comical scolding that Draco imparted on the kitten that looked a lot like Crookshanks. She was taken aback with a now a second comment that he wanted child _ren_ with her.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, interrupting her from her thoughts. "But I've already thought of names for them."

"Go on then," she told him, laughing at his enthusiasm.

"This little furball," he said, petting the long-haired black kitten in her arms, "is Harry. Get it, _Hair_ -y? And this little scrappy ginger one..."

"Lemme guess, _Ron?"_

"Precisely."

* * *

A/N: I imagine you all caught that Albus was born on April 1st? I thought it would be nice to give George another birthday twin. Also, I really, really love Harry. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Only a few chapters left.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Not JK, not even close. A/N: This chapter, primarily the first line is dedicated to my fellow fanfic writer, tammyfait69. If you want to read the most original Dramione plot _ever,_ check out her new fic, I Am the Resurrection.

* * *

 **APRIL 5, 2005**

"Ron! Stop licking your arse, you filthy little beast." Draco quietly chuckled to himself behind the morning paper.

"Really, Malfoy? I'm starting to believe you gave him that name just as an excuse to say that," Hermione scolded; her heels clickety-clacking against the hardwood floor as she entered the space. "It's alright," she said, picking up the orange kitten. "Daddy knows you're just having a bath."

Hermione placed a dish of milk on the floor in front of Ron. Within seconds Harry had joined his brother to lap up the offering.

Draco approached his witch from behind and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. "Don't call me that unless you intend to do something about it."

"Call you what? Malfoy? Or _Daddy?_ "

"Now that you mention it, _both_ seem to be having a similar effect on me," he said, shimming up the hem of her skirt.

Hermione tugged the clothing back down. "Not now. I thought you had to be in early today too?"

"I do. But I also have time for a shag with my beautiful girlfriend," he whispered, his hands now moving to the buttons on her blouse. "I even cleaned off the countertop."

"Sorry, darling, I have to go," Hermione said, moving away from his mouth on her neck. She rebuttoned her top and smoothed out her clothing with one efficient swish of her wand.

"Hermione, I haven't had you in days," he pouted. "I need you."

"You went to bed _satisfied_ last night," she argued.

"I did, love, and what you did was bloody brilliant. I just miss the feeling of my witch around me."

She summoned her travel cup of coffee from the kitchen and stepped into the floo. "I'll see you later. The boys and I are having lunch at The Leaky if you can make it." Draco nodded his head, kissed her on the lips, and then she was gone.

Draco Malfoy wasn't an expert on women. He had never been a _real_ relationship before unless one counted Pansy Parkinson, which he never really _did_ count Pansy Parkinson. He had lost his virginity back in fifth-year to a seventh-year Slytherin and was fussed over by Parkinson for a couple of years after that. She considered herself Draco's girlfriend, but he never really saw the point in all of that considering they were both betrothed to other people. Since the war, he had had a few shags with random witches to take his mind off of things, though not nearly as much as the gossip rags would have led to one to believe. He had never considered the idea of love or romance before the war. And after the war, he became slightly obsessed with the one woman he _never_ thought he could have. And now that he had her, the enigmatic witch was driving him a little barmy.

Hermione made everything infinitely more complicated than necessary. She wouldn't date him in forever when they were _clearly_ interested in each other. Then she fought him for weeks on the topic of moving in together even though he spent nearly every night at her flat!

The one thing that hadn't been complicated was their sex life—they were fiery together, their magic coiling around one another's and reverberating throughout their every touch. It was like nothing he had experienced before.

On Tuesday when she rushed off to work when he propositioned her for a morning romp he hadn't thought much of it. But now it was Friday. It had been six days.

Six days since they had come home from Sunday dinner at the Burrow. Draco had taken the kittens along for the children to play with and had helped Ron and George with James' first Quidditch lesson. Victoire had called him _'Uncle Draco'_ for the first time. "You're amazing," Hermione told him back at their flat as he guided her out of the floo. She had ripped his clothes off before he could even dust himself off.

 _Six loooooong days ago._

Finally, after work on Friday, she said, "we need to talk."

Even in his limited experience, Draco knew that was not the thing a bloke wanted to hear from his girlfriend.

"You should sit," she told him, gesturing to the couch.

" _Okay_ ," he said cautiously. He sat down and wiped his sweaty palms down the front of his trousers. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"Yes," she said, pacing the length of the living area. "You know how I get that muggle shot?" she asked. "The one to prevent pregnancy?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Well, I missed my last appointment. I just realized when Davies and I were reconciling my schedule earlier this week."

Draco exhaled. "Well, that explains why you haven't let me touch you. Why didn't you just tell me straight away? I would have understood."

"There's more…"

"Oh?"

Hermione nodded her head, inhaled deeply, and exhaled. "I'm late," she said. "My period."

Draco exhaled a great sigh of _relief_? "Shite, Hermione, I thought you were breaking up with me."

"No, but you do understand what I'm saying?"

"That there's a chance that you could be pregnant? Yes, I'm not daft," he said with a soft smile.

"You're not angry?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said, standing to hug her.

"This is serious, you realize," she told him, putting a hand to his chest, her brow furrowed.

"I do realize, but It takes two to tango, love."

"Speaking of which, it wouldn't kill you to remember the contraception spell every once in a while," she spat.

 _Woah._

"Well, I'm sorry," he said, cautiously. "I thought you had it covered with your _muggle_ shot." He couldn't help the tension in his voice in response to her self-righteous tone. He was being provoked.

"Oh, so you are angry! Clearly!"

"Well you're in a right state today!" he shot back. "I _meant_ it when I said I'm not angry at you for missing your shot. And other than it's a little sudden, I wouldn't be the least bit angry if we were having a baby! I'd be bloody thrilled, for your information!"

She positively glared at him. "Oh right, because this is all just fun and games to you. Playing house. Having babies. You think you want that."

"Ah, there's the know-it-all bitch I went to school with. I was wondering if she was going to turn up."

"So I'm a _bitch_ now?" she seethed.

"Don't forget the 'know-it-all' part, princess!" he shouted back. "So _what_ if I wanted to live with my bloody girlfriend! So _what_ if I want to marry her, and have a baby with her! And no, I don't _think_ that I want that...I bloody damn well KNOW it!"

Hermione sat firmly in the armchair opposite the couch and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You don't know what you want," she said, turning her back to him.

"You're wrong, Hermione. _You're_ the one who doesn't want that or doesn't know, and I respect that. I'm not trying to trap you into having a baby with me, but that doesn't mean I should have to act upset if it just happened." His voice softens as he says, "There was perpetual darkness in my life before you came along...before Theo started dragging me to your meet-ups."

Hermione turned to look at him, her hair still crackling with magic on the heels of their heated words. "Don't think I'm not grateful to have you in my life just because I'm not ready to be a mother."

"Hermione, you would make an amazing mother. I use to think that I'd never want children for fear of me becoming like my father. But with you...I know that you would stand up to me if I ever made a decision that put our family in harm's way." He took a deep breath. "I love you so bloody much, Hermione. I haven't said it only because I'm scared to death that you're not ready to say it back." He leaned his hand against the mantel. This was not the way he had wanted to tell her. "Did you know I can produce a corporeal Patronus now?"

It was true, Draco had attempted the charm for years. After receiving top marks on his NEWTS, Draco had seriously wanted to become an Auror. But he had heard time and time again that death eaters were incapable of producing a Patronus charm; and it was part of the final exam after Auror training, to demonstrate a corporeal Patronus. He practiced, he thought of all of his happiest memories: the first time he rode a broom, all of the Christmas presents that he used to get as a child. He even thought of _her_ though they were just fantasies and not true memories. Nothing. Wisps. His life only had wisps of happy memories, he had never been truly happy.

Even Potter who had been a miserable orphan raised by horrible muggles was able to produce a powerful Patronus at the tender age of 13 because of the tremendous love and friendship he had in his life.

' _You can still fight for the good side,'_ Theo had told him. ' _You don't have to physically take on the bad guys in order to_ _fight for justice. Plus, knowing your rotten luck, they would've paired you up with Potter. Or worse, Weasley.'_

It wasn't until he had moved out of that wretched Manor and started hanging out with Theos friends that he finally started to feel like living.

"And do you know why that is, Hermione? Because I'm once and for all _truly_ happy for the first time since taking this damned mark," he said, shoving up his shirt sleeve. "So trust me when I say that I've finally found my happiness and I just want more of that. I apologize that I'm not as cautious or worried as you are because I think having a baby with you would be brilliant."

"And if you change your mind?" she dared to ask him.

He looked at her in disbelief. "You really think so little of me?" he said. "You know what, don't answer that. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know the answer." He stormed toward the front door wrenching it open and then paused. "Contact Theo if you're looking for me," he added before slamming the door and apparating away.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: JK owns Harry Potter. A/N: We are coming to the conclusion of _LAW_. One more chapter after this plus an epilogue. First time writing (mild) smut, be gentle. Please, please, please review so that I know you're still with me. Xx

* * *

 **APRIL 9, 2005**

Hermione Granger was a stubborn witch, but she could admit when she had made a mistake —and had she ever.

Strange yet wonderful, she had found love with her childhood nemesis. Draco had proven to be _the_ perfect boyfriend: attentive to her in every way, her intellectual match; he was even making a spectacular effort to get along with her surrogate family.

Hermione wasn't pregnant. She had taken three muggle pregnancy tests that morning, each one yielding a negative result. She slumped to the floor of the bathroom holding the third and final test and allowed her fear and anger to turn to relief and guilt, and perhaps just a tinge of sadness.

She had caused their first major fight and for no reason. And how did he respond? He had been gentle and understanding when she confessed to missing her contraceptive shot. He told her that he loved her, wanted to marry her and have a family with her. That a baby between them would be a happy accident. She even suspected that he felt _guilty_ walking away—turning at the last second to tell her how to find him.

He hadn't just walked away though, she _drove_ him away. She projected her own insecurities onto him and hurled some rather insensitive accusations.

And why? Wasn't that what she wanted —a real relationship? To find _the one?_

Now that she had taken an entire night and morning by herself to think it over, she knew the answer. First, she was a control freak who simply flipped out over the fact that she had made a mistake. The other part was a little harder to admit: _Ron Weasley_. _No_ , though she loved Ron a great deal, she wasn't _in love_ with him. It had taken them years of dancing around one another before admitting any kind of feelings. Even once they had begun dating it took another 6 months to say the L-word. And Hermione was simply panicked when he began talking about marriage a year later. But this wasn't Hogwarts anymore. This wasn't Ron wanting marriage and two kids by the time they were 20. This was Draco, someone she hadn't even considered as a romantic interest a few months ago, and now she had fallen harder and faster than she could have ever imagined. And she was terrified.

Hermione took a shower scrubbing the exhaustion from her face and letting the hot water soothe away some of the tension in her body from a sleepless night. She charmed her hair into a loose braid over her shoulder and secured it with a thin headband, not bothering with makeup. She changed into a white cotton dress layered with a tan cardigan and gave herself a once over in the full-length mirror. She looked rather innocent this way and that, perhaps, was a good thing. Without further hesitation, the witch apparated to Nott Manor.

* * *

"Well, don't you look pretty," the wizard addressed her. "Come to grovel?"

"I really messed up, Theo," Hermione said, falling into her friend's open arms.

"I heard," he told her. "Come on in." Theo opened the door fully and led Hermione to the first-floor study. He called on his house elf, Mitzy to bring tea. Normally Hermione would scoff at this—she didn't agree with servitude, regardless of how the elves themselves felt—but she didn't have the energy to argue with her good friend or his servant for that matter.

"How is he?" Hermione asked.

"Sleeping it off. He _may_ have drowned his sorrows in two or three bottles of fire whiskey last night."

 _"Theodore!"_ she scolded, her eyes flying wide open.

"Don't worry, I _helped_."

A small laugh escaped her. "You've been a good friend. To _both_ of us."

"He loves you, you know." Hermione simply nodded in reply. "And what about you, Hermione? Do you love him?" Another nod. Theo reached for her hand. "Did you tell him?"

She shook her head. "No, I-" she hesitated.

"Told him that he was _'playing_ _house'..."_ he said, making quotation marks with his fingers, "...and then accused him of changing his mind, leaving you alone and pregnant?"

 _It sounded even worse coming from someone else._

Hermione put her face in her hands. "I was just _awful_."

"Everyone makes mistakes, love," Theo told her, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"Will you just let him know that I-" she sobbed, "that I want him to come home?"

"Tell him yourself," he said gently. "Up the stairs, third door on your right."

* * *

Draco had been woken by Theo's house elf letting him know that _Miss Granger_ had arrived. His head was pounding and he was a mess. "Thank you, Nott," he mumbled to himself when he spotted the vial of hangover potion on the bedside table. He drained the contents and headed to the guest bath to splash some water on his face. As he sobered, he started to think about the events that had transpired between him and Hermione the day before. What was she thinking—that he would just walk out on her and _their child_!?

If anyone was stumped as to how clever Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw, this was it. She was as foolhardy as Potter when it came to backing down from a fight. He had spilled his heart out to her, and hadn't he said all the right things: that he wasn't angry; that they shared the responsibility; that a baby between them would never be a bad thing?

Suddenly it made sense how Weasley would have made a good match for the brilliant witch, one just as pigheaded as the other. They probably just screamed at each other until their damned voices gave out and then had a good angry shag.

 _Don't think about that. That's_ definitely _not helping._

Hermione rapped lightly on the door and entered the room with her head down looking lovely in a pretty white dress. Not the smart, sleek kind that she often wore to work, he noticed, but a floaty dress that flared out at the hips and tied around her neck leaving her shoulders bare if not for the light sweater she wore. She was resplendent.

She closed the door behind her, casting a _'Muffalito'_ so that Theo wouldn't hear the shouting if it came to that. "Draco, I-"

She turned and he crashed his lips against hers, effectively silencing the witch. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, moving his mouth aggressively against hers. After her initial shock, she responded in kind, moaning into his mouth and intensifying his desire.

Draco pulled her body to his, bunching the material of her dress up to her waist. He pushed down her knickers and made quick work of his pants. He waved his wand and muttered a quick contraceptive spell before dropping the wand to the floor. "When are you going to get it through your head, Hermione?" He asked, shoving her up against the door as he pulled her leg up over his hip. He was surprised to find her ready for him, and upon that discovery, wasted no time pushing into her. "You are _it_ for me," he told her. "I am _in love_ with you, Hermione Granger." The door shook as he slammed into her. She kept eye contact with him as she loosened the knot at the base of her neck allowing the top of her dress to fall away. Draco moaned his approval and placed a hand between the door and her head to prevent it from knocking against the hard surface as he doubled his efforts. I'm... _going_...to marry...you," he groaned out, accentuating each word with a thrust. After a few more strokes he felt his witch clench and tremble around him, but there were tears in her eyes. "Did I hurt you?" He asked, concerned.

She shook her head 'no'. "Keep going," she whispered.

He planned to pull out, to show her that he could be _extra_ cautious. But the sight of her hands on her body as she moaned through her pleasure, her braid having come unraveled, her hair thoroughly mussed, proved to be too much.

He pushed into her once, twice, three more times and pulsed inside of her. He pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm not going to change my mind. Ever." Hermione nodded her head and closed her eyes allowing the unshed tears to fall. Draco picked up his wand incanting, _"Tergeo"_ over the two of them before handing Hermione back her knickers. They redressed and he pulled her down to lie with him on the bed so that they were facing each other. "You're crying," he said, wiping the tears from her face.

"Draco, I love you. I'm so sorry."

"Say that again."

"I'm _so_ sorry."

He shook his head, "The part before that..."

She smiled knowing what he wanted to hear and took his face in both of her hands. "I _love you,_ Draco Malfoy." He kissed her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. "How can you ever forgive me for the things that I said?" she asked.

"The same way you've forgiven me," he told her. He ran his hand down her arm, stopping at her hand, lacing his fingers between hers.

"Do you feel that..." she asked, "...when you're inside of me?"

"You'll have to be more specific," he said, the left side of his mouth twitching upward.

 _Fuck, that sexy smirk._

"Do you feel my _magic?_ " He nodded and stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. "Have you..."

"... _felt_ _that_ with any other witch?" He guessed. "No love, I've never felt that with that with anyone but you."

She nodded shyly. "Neither have I."

"How long have I been telling you how good we would be together?" He smiled.

"I'm not pregnant!" she blurted out.

He looked a little surprised mixed with a touch of sadness. "You're certain?"

"There's a muggle test," she explained, "you sort of, well, _urinate_ on this stick and it can detect the levels of the pregnancy hormone in a woman's body."

"Really? Blimey," he said of the muggle contraption. "You're relieved, I presume?"

"Yes and _no,"_ she replied. "You want a baby..."

"I want _you,_ Hermione, and whatever adventure our life together brings," he said sincerely. "I do want children someday. With _you,"_ he clarified. "But it can be when we're _both r_ eady for that."

"I shouldn't have gotten so spooked. Ron wanted a whole houseful of kids," she explained. "It was one of the main reasons we split up, initially. I presumed..." _probably unfairly,_ she thought, "...that he wanted a housewitch to tend to the children and cook his meals."

"No offense, Princess, but I seriously doubt Weasley thought that's what he was getting with you."

"No, you're right. He would have been content if I were the _Minister for Magic_ and Molly tended the children all day, but I didn't want that either."

"I have no doubt that you _will_ be Minister for Magic one day," Draco told her honestly. "But what if _I_ tended the children?" He cleared his throat. "If we were to have children, that is," he quickly added.

"Y-you would do that? Like, be a stay-at-home dad?"

He wrinkled his brow. "If that's what we're calling it, sure," he continued. "Why not? I can run our investments from home. And the little buggers sleep _some_ of the time, don't they?"

"You would just quit your job at the Ministry?"

"If it's slipped your notice, love, I'm independently wealthy, we'd manage. Maybe I'd stay on as a consultant," he said thoughtfully. "That's nothing that can't be done by owl."

She looked at him, dumbfounded. "That's so... _progressive. So_ _brilliant,_ really." She took a deep breath. "I can hardly believe we're having this conversation like..."

"... _Like_ two adults who love each other and want to build a life together?" He smiled at her, hopeful.

She smiled back nodding her head. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm not accustomed to the men in my life being so mature."

"I truly did name our cat 'Ron' just to hear myself tell him not to lick his arse." He laughed. "Don't give me _too_ much credit."

She smacked his arm lightly before dissolving into giggles. "Cat-shaming aside, you will make an amazing father one day," she told him, her face growing serious. "Let's go _home._ "

* * *

Nott raised a brow at the happy couple. "Do I need to run a disinfecting spell over my sheets?" he snickered.

"No," Draco told him honestly. "But you might want to go over the door."


End file.
